A Bottle and Six Virgins at the Empty School

My name is Mateo. I was pretty young the first time a man fucked me: freshly eighteen. To this day, the memory of that afternoon gives me an inexplicable arousal, greater than anything I’ve felt since, whether with men or women.

Back then I almost always hung out with older friends. I felt safer beside them and learned quickly from the experience they carried. Summer vacation was our territory: long days with no one watching us, afternoons spent doing whatever came to mind. That morning, the idea was to meet up in the school building, which we had access to thanks to Tomás, the janitor’s son and the informal owner of the keys whenever his parents went out.

Besides Tomás, there were Sebastián, my sister Camila’s boyfriend; Bruno, who despite being my age was much taller and more built; Lautaro, an older friend who no longer studied with us; and Esteban, the one who gave me my first time, who took my virginity, the first male I ever had.

The school had two courtyards. The first, near the office and the caretaker’s quarters where Tomás’s family lived, had a garden and a basketball court. The second, in the back, was enormous: the size of a soccer field, and in front of it most of the classrooms were lined up. Vacation, echo, silence. Tomás’s parents had gone out and wouldn’t be back until very late. The perfect place for our games.

At some point in the afternoon we slipped into the room farthest from the residence. It was Lautaro’s idea, the sharpest one in the group and, surely, the one who already had in mind teaching us some games none of us knew, at least not me.

He had brought a magazine with naked male and female bodies. We leafed through it in a circle, sprawled on the wooden floor, commenting with nervous laughter. That magazine sparked everyone’s curiosity and opened the door to a conversation we would never have started on our own.

It was a time with no real sex education. The only thing that circulated among us was feedback: each of us contributing what we knew or thought we knew, mixing truths with myths. In the middle of that exchange came the confession: although we’d all had close calls, erections, and secret masturbation, none of the six had ever fucked anyone. Six virgin men in an empty classroom. Incredible as it sounded, it was true.

Then Lautaro proposed what he said was nothing more than a game: draw pairs among ourselves, one couple would fuck while the others watched, then the second, then the third. Three couples, all losing their virginity that same afternoon.

It didn’t seem like a bad idea to me. Back then I didn’t associate that with a homosexual act. To me, a faggot was the one who wore girls’ clothes, the one who walked around flicking his hands, the one who spoke in a feminine way. None of those of us there fit that image. It was curiosity, it was learning, it was just another game.

To choose the first pair we used the bottle. One spin, one turn, fate decides. It landed on me. And across from me, when the bottle stopped, was Esteban.

I barely managed to hide the thrill that sped up my pulse.

Out of the whole group, Esteban was the one I admired most. I liked simply looking at him. He had a smile and a gaze I loved, although back then I thought that admiration was man-to-man, nothing more. I was sure I wanted to be like him, not be with him. Consciously, I felt no attraction toward his body. I liked women then and I still do.

I wanted to make my manhood clear and, before anyone could say anything, I rushed in.

—I’ll fuck him first —I said.

No one objected. Tomás went to his “house” to fetch a mat, and when he came back, Esteban and I took off our shoes and climbed onto it. The other four surrounded us in silence, sitting cross-legged, watching us as if they were about to see a movie.

Esteban and I pulled down our pants and underwear. Naked from the waist down, in front of everyone, a difference I hadn’t calculated came to light.

Esteban was only a little taller than me, but he had a muscular body and thick legs. The most impressive thing, the one that left me breathless for an instant, was his cock. Big, veined, with heavy balls that would barely fit in the palm of a hand. It wasn’t gigantic, but beside my micropenis of barely five centimeters it looked monstrous. My balls, on top of that, were as small as marbles and, instead of hanging, they sank into my skin.

As if that weren’t enough, my shy little dick didn’t want to get hard. I gave it a few tugs trying to wake it up, but it didn’t respond. Esteban, on the other hand, was pointing at the ceiling: rigid, with the tip reaching past his navel.

The others started laughing. There was no way I was going to fuck him like that, anyone could see it. Before the mockery grew, I leaned toward Esteban and said in a low voice, almost in his ear.

—Better fuck me first.

—Get on all fours —he answered.

I obeyed immediately. He bent down, stroked my ass, squeezed it, spread it open with his hands so everyone could see my hole. He smiled.

—We’re about to see if you were born for this —he said.

Everyone laughed, including me, because at that moment it all seemed like a joke. Esteban kept playing with my ass, explored my little hole with his fingers, put on a bit of pressure.

—Are you ready, “Mateíta”? —he asked me.

Talking to me in the feminine was part of the game, so I nodded. Then I felt the head of his cock straining at my entrance. I wasn’t afraid. I was expectant, eager to know that new sensation.

He lifted me by the shoulders for a moment to take off my T-shirt. He ran his hand over my back with a tenderness I hadn’t expected and then, firmly, put me back in position. I felt his cock pressed against my body. With his hands he spread my ass again, settled his cock between them and started rubbing it up and down, sliding it between my thighs, grinding it against me.

—Relax, baby, relax. As soon as it goes in, you’re going to feel so good —he said in a strong, manly voice that got inside me before his body did.

—Yes, Esteban, yes. Whenever you want. I’m ready —I answered automatically, in a tiny voice so faint even I didn’t know where it had come from.

He took my hips with a soft but firm grip. The tip managed to go in just a little, a pressure, a resistance that gave way slowly.

—Little one, I’m going to put my cock in you. Stay nice and loose. It might hurt a little at first, but you’re going to like it. Has anyone put it in you before, baby?

—No, nobody. You’re the first.

—Easy, baby. Easy.

—Yes, Esteban, yes. I’m calm. Put it in, I can take it.

I surprised myself by speaking to him in the feminine without having decided to. The voice came out on its own, as if it had been stored away for a long time.

Once the tip was in, he kept pushing slowly. The penetration was slow, gentle, but when the head got through, the rest went in like a knife through butter, first halfway, then all the way.

And then, for the first time, I felt what it was to have a man inside me. It didn’t hurt. On the contrary: it was wonderful. All the warnings, everything people said about the first time, everything I’d heard between laughs on the field, wasn’t true for me. I was completely open and nothing hurt.

—See how easy? It’s all the way in. You’ve got a very hungry little ass —he commented.

He held me by the hips and made me feel his power over me. His cock went in and out, waking sensations in me I didn’t know existed. If fucking was like this, I wanted to fuck forever.

He pulled my hips toward him, and I, grateful, pushed back harder to press myself closer, to swallow that flesh whole and make it disappear inside me. Esteban hardly spoke. He grunted, breathed hard, communicated with me through the pressure of his hands. I wanted to scream with pleasure, tell him how wonderful I felt, call him macho, daddy, owner. But I was ashamed of the other four. I was afraid they’d think I was gay. And I wasn’t, I told myself, somewhere hurried in my head. I’d always liked women.

Esteban kept alternating between grabbing my hips and seizing my shoulders. Always firmly, always making it clear who was in charge. He didn’t want me to forget, not even in the middle of pleasure, that I was there to serve him. And I was so grateful I had no intention of letting him down.

He kept moving steadily: in, out, in circles. I panted softly, made sounds that weren’t mine either. It was incredible. That beautiful cock was inside me. It was mine, at least in that instant. What I had never dreamed of, what I may have subconsciously longed for without knowing it.

I enjoyed the way it entered and opened space inside me. He would pull it out, leaving only the head, and then push it all the way back in, to the hilt, in one motion. I started letting out short, contained moans.

The sensation was born in my lower belly and ran through my whole body, up to the nape of my neck. Esteban was behind me, breathing hard, tense. It was as if I had been like this all my life, as though that cock had been born to fit into me. I started moving, trying to make him come inside me. I raised and lowered my hips to the rhythm of his thrusts, so the blows would go deeper. I clenched my ass with every stroke, as if trying to milk him dry.

I didn’t take long to moan.

—Ah… like this… so good —I said very softly.

—You like it like this, baby? Am I your macho? —he asked me with every thrust.

—Yes. My daddy. My macho —I answered in a high little voice I didn’t know where I was getting from.

Then Esteban squeezed my shoulders and started a frantic fucking. He grunted like a bull. His balls slapped against my ass, his body crushed against mine, sinking his cock all the way in.

He kept fucking me faster and faster. My breathing turned ragged, uneven. Until suddenly he went still. His cock swelled inside me and Esteban exploded. Something warm, viscous, abundant, poured into me. His cock pumped and deposited that load very deep inside. I clenched, trying to keep it in. I felt his back arch backward.

He yanked it out before it could soften, against my wishes. He left me with a huge emptiness. He placed a hand on my back to keep his hold over me.

That gesture reminded me of when I bathed my dog and had to rest a hand on his back so he wouldn’t shake himself between the suds. I understood, almost without thinking, that I had to stay still. Esteban straightened up, still with his hand on my back, and positioned himself in front of me. By force of habit, I knelt.

His rod was at my face. And I, as if I’d been doing that my whole life, started licking, sucking, cleaning it with my mouth as if my life depended on that gesture.

The first taste was intense. His smell mixed with the smell of my own ass. But as soon as I cleaned it with my tongue and swallowed, it tasted delicious. It brought me pleasurable memories: the little pleasure I had already experienced was all I knew.

I devoted myself to kissing, licking, and tonguing from the balls to the tip. With care, with surrender, with the pride of a novice who nevertheless felt experienced. I was almost certain none of those present knew how to do that as well as I was doing it at that moment.

My tongue ran over the shaft invading my mouth. The head rose and fell, pushing itself down my throat. It barely fit, but I took it as deep as I could, pulled it back out without letting go, without stopping sucking, coating it with saliva, kissing the balls, savoring the warm, soft head.

I stayed like that for several minutes until I felt it growing again in my mouth. Then I devoured it whole. I sucked that hot iron with the same surrender with which I had taken it between my ass cheeks.

Moans kept escaping from my throat, muffled by the cock. When I pulled it out to breathe, the words came out on their own.

—Daddy, so good. You’re wonderful.

—This cock is all mine.

—You’re my macho. I’m your little girl —I said in a low volume, with that high voice that appeared on its own.

Suddenly I felt his cock swell again. I began to suck harder, calling to him, asking him for everything, until he came in my mouth a second time. I held the cum for a moment to savor it before swallowing. Esteban held my nape with both hands as he emptied himself.

I looked into his eyes, ecstatic, proud, loving, grateful. Then I saw Tomás, standing beside him.

—What does it feel like? Is it better to fuck or to get your cock sucked? —he asked him.

—It’s something I can’t explain to you. You have to try it —Esteban answered, stroking my head with the same tenderness with which I stroked my dog when I told him nice things.

Then he took my chin, still kneeling, and with a gesture indicated to Tomás that he come closer. He pressed my face against Tomás’s groin. He had a huge erection that I felt instantly through the fabric.

Only then did I come out of my trance and remember that we had an audience. It had been so absorbing that I had forgotten the rest. What was curious was that they were still watching us fixedly, in silence, and out of the corner of my eye I could see that all of them had cocks standing up inside their pants.

There was still a lot of afternoon ahead. There was a lot left to learn. And I, that afternoon, had the faintest idea where what had just begun was going to take us.