Camila Left Me Alone With Her Boyfriend That Morning

Camila and I had known each other since school. The kind of friendship that survives moves, boyfriends, fights, and long silences because there’s something at the core that doesn’t break. We shared almost everything: secrets, clothes, and more than a few nights I’d rather not detail here. It was she who stayed by my side when I lost my virginity to Andrés, the boy from the building next door, and it was she too who taught me that men are much easier to understand when they don’t know you’re understanding them.

The call came on a Tuesday afternoon. I was folding laundry when I saw her name on the screen.

—I’ve got a new boyfriend —she said before I could say hello.

—And? —I replied, sitting down on the bed. With Camila, “I’ve got a new boyfriend” was never just that.

—He’s very hot. Tall, light eyes, a body that makes you question your convictions.

—But?

—He’s really shy. He says he wants to wait until marriage. He’s from an evangelical church, wants to be a pastor, the whole thing.

I was quiet for a moment.

—And you’re with him anyway?

—Yes, because when he finally gave in... Valeria, you have no idea. That man has a cock that splits you in two. I thought he was going to be a disaster in bed, a clumsy fool reciting the Lord’s Prayer while he came in two seconds. But no. The motherfucker fucks like he’s been doing it every night for ten years. He had me face down for three hours the first time, working my ass with a patience you can’t even imagine.

I laughed. It wasn’t mockery; it was that laugh that escapes when something wakes up a curiosity you didn’t ask for.

—When do I get to meet him?

—In a few weeks. We’re coming to visit you.

I hung up and sat staring at the ceiling for a while. Sebastián, she’d said his name was. He already had the face of someone interesting, and I was already soaking wet imagining that evangelical preacher dick that had made Camila so stupid.

***

They arrived on a Friday afternoon. Camila got out of the taxi first, tanned and with her hair tied back, and behind her he appeared. She hadn’t exaggerated: he was tall, broad-backed, with a strong jaw and those eyes that are neither fully gray nor fully green. He was wearing a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and a canvas backpack he carried like it weighed nothing. I glanced at the bulge in his pants without meaning to, and from the little that showed I had to give Camila credit.

He introduced himself with a proper handshake and a polite smile. I told him he smelled very good while I greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, and that smile tightened by a millimeter.

—Thanks —he said, looking over toward where Camila was standing.

Camila pretended not to see a thing. But I knew she had seen everything.

The first night was calm. The three of us had dinner, talked about the trip, the city, plans none of us intended to follow through on. Sebastián was reserved but not unfriendly. He answered what was asked, asked the right questions, didn’t interrupt. He was the kind of person who goes unnoticed in a gathering until someone makes the effort to really look at him.

I made that effort.

And I noticed that he looked at me too, whenever he thought I wouldn’t notice. Mostly at my tits. I was wearing a blouse with no bra, and every time I leaned over to pour wine I felt his eyes nailed to my cleavage as if it were the first time in his life he’d seen a pair of tits.

***

The next day I got up early. I went down to the kitchen wearing what I’d slept in: a short sleeveless T-shirt and a cotton thong. Nothing outrageous for being in your own house. Sebastián was sitting at the table with a coffee that nearly spilled when I came in.

—Good morning —I said, as if nothing were happening.

—Good morning —he replied, eyes fixed on the phone he was clearly not reading.

I made breakfast without hurrying. I took longer than necessary looking for something in the drawer under the counter. I bent down slowly, fully aware that my shirt was riding up and showing nearly all of my ass, with the thong buried in the crack. When I turned around, his eyes went back to the phone with a speed that said it all. The bulge in his pajama pants, on the other hand, hadn’t had time to hide anything.

—Something wrong? —I asked, leaning against the counter with my mug in hand.

—No, nothing.

—You look uncomfortable.

—I’m your friend’s boyfriend and I’m in your house —he said. As if that were an answer.

It was an answer, actually. Just not to the question I’d asked. The real question was why his cock was hard under the table, and we both knew that answer too.

That afternoon I put on a white cotton dress, thin straps, nothing underneath. Light enough to show when I walked close by. I went over to Sebastián under the pretext of showing him something on my phone and leaned in more than necessary, letting my tits almost spill out of the neckline a hand’s breadth from his face. I heard his breathing change before he pulled back a fraction, as if looking for a centimeter of space that didn’t exist.

—You okay? —I asked without moving.

—Yeah —he replied, his voice a little lower than usual.

When I walked away, I felt him following me with his eyes until I turned the corner in the hallway. And I know, because I glanced back for a second from the other side, that he adjusted his cock inside his pants before going back to pretending to read.

***

Camila didn’t just know what I was doing. She encouraged it in silence. When Sebastián left the room, she’d signal to me from the sofa, cover her mouth so she wouldn’t laugh, text me while he was in the bathroom. It was our usual game, only this time she was part of the board instead of on the other side. One of the messages said: if you manage to get him to fuck you, I want details. ALL OF THEM.

One night I put on a white, strappy nightgown, in a fabric that hinted at more than it concealed. My hard nipples showed through it, and the dark shadow of my shaved cunt came through the cotton. Camila made up an excuse to go get something from the bedroom and left me alone with him in the living room.

I sat on the sofa, close enough for him to feel the heat. The TV was on but neither of us was watching.

—Sebastián —I said.

—What.

—Do you like me?

A long silence. The kind that has weight of its own.

—You’re Camila’s friend —he said at last.

—I know. Do you like me?

I shamelessly looked at the bulge in his pants. His hard cock was obvious from the side, pushing against the fabric. He followed my gaze and turned red to the ears.

—Valeria...

—You do like me —I said, smiling. —You’ve been hard since I came down the stairs.

He stood up without saying anything else and almost ran to the bedroom, hands in front of him to cover what he could no longer cover. Thirty seconds later Camila came downstairs looking like she could barely contain herself.

—He ran off —I told her.

—Of course he did —she replied, laughing under her breath—. But he was looking at you the whole time. And I swear on everything I love: when he goes back up, he’s going to jack off thinking about you. It’s already obvious.

***

The kiss incident happened two days later. A friend of mine came by to pick me up and we ended up talking for a while at the door. He was someone I went out with now and then, no commitments and no labels. When we said goodbye, we kissed—one of those kisses that lasts a little longer than the moment calls for, with tongue and everything, knowing Sebastián was watching from the living room window.

When I went back inside, Sebastián was in the living room with his arms crossed and an expression that made no effort at all to hide what he was feeling.

—Who was that? —he asked.

—A friend.

—A boyfriend?

—Not exactly. Someone who fucks me now and then —I said, looking him straight in the eyes. —Nothing serious.

He fell silent. His jaw twitched for a second. I stood in front of him.

—Are you jealous?

—I have no reason to be —he said, looking off to the side.

—You’re right —I replied. —None at all.

I went up to my room with a smile he never got to see.

***

On Sunday morning, Camila and my mother went out for a run. Before closing the door, Camila looked at me from the threshold. She said nothing. Just looked at me, with that half smile of hers that means exactly what it seems to mean, and closed the door.

I waited ten minutes. I listened to the house go silent. Then I went up the stairs.

The bedroom door was ajar. I went in slowly. Sebastián was asleep on his back with a sheet up to his waist and the morning light slanting in through the half-lowered blinds. The room smelled like soap and that particular warmth of someone’s sleep when they don’t have to get up early. Under the sheet, a considerable morning bulge was visible, and I wet my lips without realizing it.

I sat on the edge of the bed and watched him for a moment before doing anything. His jaw was relaxed and his hands were open at his sides. He looked different asleep, without that constant vigilance he carried when he was awake.

—Sebastián —I said softly.

He opened his eyes slowly. The moment he processed that it was me and not Camila was obvious: a blink, a second of confusion, and then something that wasn’t exactly fear but came pretty close.

—What are you doing here? —he asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

—I came to see you.

—Camila...

—She went running with my mother. They won’t be back for an hour.

He ran a hand over his face. He breathed slowly, like someone trying to organize his arguments before speaking.

—Valeria. This can’t happen.

—Why not?

—Because I’m your friend’s boyfriend. Because it’s wrong. Because...

—Sebastián —I cut him off, moving closer. —Do you want me?

He didn’t answer. But he also didn’t move when I leaned toward him and kissed him.

At first it was almost nothing: a still contact, no response. But after a few seconds I felt something give. His breathing changed. His hand moved to my hip without him fully deciding to. And his lips stopped resisting and started to respond, first cautiously, then without caution. He shoved his tongue into my mouth and searched for mine with a hunger he’d been holding back for four days.

I climbed onto the bed and sat astride him, feeling that hard cock under the sheet pushing exactly between my open thighs. I had nothing on under the nightgown, and he noticed at the same moment I noticed he was naked beneath the fabric. I covered his mouth with mine and started moving slowly, rubbing my soaked cunt against his cock through the sheet.

—Stop —he said. But his hands, which were now squeezing my ass beneath the nightgown, did not stop.

—Do you really want me to stop?

Silence.

—No —he admitted, in a voice that sounded half surrender, half relief.

I ripped the sheet off him in one tug. He was hard as stone, thicker and longer than I’d guessed under his clothes. Camila hadn’t lied about a thing. My mouth literally watered. I grabbed his cock with my hand and squeezed it, feeling it pulse against my palm.

—Fuck, Sebastián —I murmured. —No wonder Camila goes stupid over you.

He let out a rough groan he couldn’t quite smother. I lowered my head and ran my tongue along the whole length, from base to tip, savoring that taste of a man who’d just woken up. Then I took him all the way into my mouth, as much as I could, until I felt him hitting the back of my throat. Sebastián clutched the sheets with both hands and arched his back.

—Oh my God... Valeria...

—No, not God —I told him, sucking him with my hand at the base. —Me. Just me. And don’t you even think about praying while I suck your cock.

I sucked his cock slowly, my tongue circling the glans, letting my mouth fill with saliva and run down over his balls. He looked at me with a face of surprise that was almost funny, as if in his entire life no one had ever sucked him like that. Maybe no one had. Maybe Camila was more elegant.

When I felt him close, I stopped. I climbed back on top, pulled the nightgown off over my head, and sat naked astride him. I took his hands and placed them on my tits.

—Squeeze them —I ordered. —Don’t treat them like porcelain. Squeeze them hard.

And he did. He pinched my nipples between his fingers until a gasp slipped out of me. Then he sat up and took each one in his mouth, sucking them with an intensity that made me push his head down against my chest.

—Like that —I panted. —Like that, you son of a bitch, like that.

I grabbed his cock again, lined it up with my soaked cunt, and lowered myself slowly, impaling myself on it centimeter by centimeter. We both groaned at once. It was so thick I felt myself splitting open from the inside. When I had him all the way in, I stayed still for a second with my eyes closed, feeling him throb deep inside me.

—Fuck... —he whispered against my neck. —Fuck, fuck, fuck...

—Watch that mouth —I said, smiling. —What would your pastor say?

—Shut up and move.

I moved. At first slowly, rising and lowering myself on him, letting my cunt swallow him whole each time. I dug my nails into his shoulders and started riding him faster, setting the pace myself, my tits bouncing in front of his face and his eyes locked on them like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

—Stop being so careful —I said in his ear. —Fuck me. Really fuck me.

—Like this? —he asked, grabbing my ass with both hands and driving up into me with a thrust that made me cry out.

—Much better.

What Camila had told me was true: when he let go, he became another man. He abandoned that reserve of his and acted from a different place, more instinctive, more direct. He flipped me over on the bed in one movement, never slipping out of me, and put me on my back with my legs spread wide open. He sank in to the hilt and started fucking me with a force I hadn’t expected, braced on his arms to drive himself deeper and deeper into me.

—Harder —I begged, my voice half broken. —Harder, Sebastián, fuck me hard.

And he did fuck me hard. He drove into me until the bed started hitting the wall and I had to bite the back of my hand so I wouldn’t wake the neighbors. He grabbed one of my legs and threw it over his shoulder to get in even deeper, fucking me with four days of contained fury.

—Is this what you wanted? —he growled in my ear without stopping. —Is this what you’ve been after all fucking week?

—Yes —I panted. —Yes, you son of a bitch, this is what I wanted.

He made me come with him inside me, still in that position, with my clit pressed against his pubic bone and his fingers torturing one nipple. I came in a shudder that shook my whole body and squeezed his cock with the muscles of my cunt until he cursed. We moved with an urgency we’d both been suppressing for four days without admitting it out loud.

Then he put me on all fours at the edge of the bed. He stood behind me and shoved into me again with one dry thrust, gripping my hips with both hands. He fucked me while looking at my ass, with a brutality that had nothing at all to do with the boy who blushed when I came down to breakfast in a thong.

—Camila told me... you like ass —I said, turning my head, my face pressed against the mattress. —That you fuck her ass until she cries.

—Shut up —he panted. —Don’t talk to me about her.

—Are you going to fuck mine too?

—Another day —he said, and shoved a finger wet with saliva into my ass while he fucked my cunt.

He came like that, with a finger inside me and his cock about to explode. He pulled out at the last second and unloaded all over me, thick white spurts that landed on my back, my ass, my crack. I looked over my shoulder as it spilled over me, moaning softly, his cock still throbbing in his fist.

When he finished, I stayed still for a moment, face down, feeling the warm semen slide over my skin, staring at the ceiling, listening to his breathing return to normal. The blinds cast stripes of light over the tangled sheets and over my back coated in his come.

—And now what? —I asked.

—Now nothing —he said.

It wasn’t the most poetic answer in the world. But it was honest, and at that moment honesty was worth more than anything else.

***

When we heard the door twenty minutes later, Sebastián rushed me out of the room in a way that made me want to laugh in his face. I managed to wipe his come off my back with a towel he himself threw me, terrified out of his mind. I went downstairs just as Camila and my mother came in, still breathing hard from the run.

Camila looked at me. I held her gaze. I gave the smallest possible nod.

She drew a tiny smile and kept walking toward the kitchen without saying a word.

That afternoon, while Sebastián was in the shower, Camila came into my room and closed the door carefully.

—Well? —she asked.

—Everything you told me —I replied. —And more. I came like crazy. He finished on me like he’d gone a year without fucking.

—Told you so. He fucks like he’s someone else, doesn’t he?

—He turned me over in bed like a doll. He almost broke something.

—He did the same to me the first time —she said, biting her lip, laughing—. No one would guess, right? With that pastor face.

We laughed without making a sound, the way we used to when we were fifteen and keeping secrets that, deep down, weren’t all that different from this one.

—Are you going to tell him anything? —I asked.

—No. He already knows I know. And I know that he knows I know. No need for more.

That was Camila: always finding a way for everything to fit without anything breaking.

***

Sebastián left with her on Tuesday. When he said goodbye, he gave me a proper hug, one that revealed nothing, and told me it had been a pleasure meeting me. He said it looking straight at me, with no irony and no double meaning. That seriousness of his, which at first had seemed like stiffness, ended up feeling almost endearing.

Months later, when Camila and he broke up for reasons that had nothing to do with me, she told me over the phone as if it were just another story. No reproaches, no drama. That’s how we’ve always been.

What I did keep was that memory: the Sunday morning, the light coming in bands through the bedroom blinds, the hot come of a future evangelical pastor sliding down my back, and a man who took four days to give in and did it in a way I hadn’t expected.

There are people who confuse shyness with lack of desire. That week I learned that sometimes they’re completely different things, and that waiting doesn’t always mean not wanting.