Confession on the Hood After the Party

There are things you don’t say out loud because, once you do, they stop being a fantasy and become evidence against you. I was thirty-two, back from a trip with friends where I’d let myself go more than I expected, and I still had a few contacts in my phone that kept circling through my mind whenever I went to bed alone.

One of those contacts was Bruno. He wasn’t from my town, he wasn’t friends with anyone close to me, and that made things easier. We’d crossed paths one night over drinks, kissed in a bar with far too much music, and then kept talking for weeks, our messages growing dirtier and dirtier.

I told him what I wanted him to do to me, and he answered without getting shy. I liked that. I liked that he didn’t try to sound refined, that he told me directly he wanted to touch me, lick me, spread my legs and fuck me until I was trembling.

When I went back to my hometown for the patron-saint festivities, I thought that tension would stay in my phone. He lived over an hour away by road and got off work late. So when he texted to say he was coming, I laughed at first. Then he started sending me pictures of the road, the gas station, the car’s dashboard, the signs getting closer and closer.

—I’m almost there —he texted.

A wave of heat hit me in the chest. I was with my friends on a terrace, pretending to listen to a conversation about who had had a fight with whom, but my mind was somewhere else. I sent him a discreet location, a poorly lit street behind the market, and told him to park there.

I didn’t dress as if I were going on a date. At least that’s what I kept telling myself. I was wearing sneakers, very short shorts, and a low-cut shirt that made it clear I wasn’t going to put many obstacles in the way of his hands. Underneath, a black thong that made me feel shameless from the moment I left home.

—I’m leaving early. I’m tired —I told my friends.

I lied with a naturalness that embarrassed and pleased me at the same time. I walked slowly to the street I’d indicated, listening to the music from the square fading behind me. When I saw his car’s lights at the end of the block, my mouth went dry.

Bruno rolled down the window. He had the smile of a man who had imagined far too many things before arriving.

—Get in —he said.

As soon as I shut the passenger door, he leaned toward me and went for my mouth. I stopped him with one hand against his chest, although my body was already responding.

—Not here. This town is full of people who look out their windows even when they say they don’t.

He let out a low laugh, started the car, and let me direct him out of town. We passed the last houses, the sports field, a narrow bridge, and then a dirt road between fields. The sound of stones crunching beneath the tires made me more nervous than any words could have.

—Turn there —I told him.

The car went on until it was hidden among low trees and a line of unlit poles. In the distance, the party could still be heard, like a murmur. There were no windows, no neighbors, no excuses.

—No one can see us here —I said.

Bruno turned off the engine but left the headlights on. He didn’t say anything. He took my face in both hands and kissed me as if he’d driven all that way just to do that first: bite my lip, slide his tongue into my mouth, press me against the seat until my breathing began to break.

I wanted to tease him, wanted to watch him lose control. I pulled away just enough, lifted my shirt, and bared my breasts. The way he stared at me made me smile.

—Is this what you wanted? —I asked.

He didn’t answer with words. He lowered his mouth and sucked one nipple while squeezing my breast hard with his other hand. I closed my eyes and buried my fingers in his hair. I felt his hot tongue, his teeth barely marking me, and a direct pull between my legs that left me wet within seconds.

—Harder —I murmured.

He obeyed. He sucked me until my back arched, alternating between one breast and the other, while his hand moved down my waist and slipped beneath my shorts. When his fingers brushed the fabric of my thong, he felt how wet I was and let out a hoarse sound against my skin.

—You’re soaking wet.

—And you’ve barely done anything to me yet.

That turned him on even more. He kissed me again, but the space inside the car quickly became uncomfortable. I needed to move, to see all of him, to have his standing body in front of mine.

—Let’s go outside —I said.

I got out without pulling down my shirt, my breasts exposed and my skin prickling in the night air. He walked around the car and pushed me against the passenger door. He kissed my neck, squeezed my hips, and rubbed his erection against my stomach over his pants.

Feeling him hard erased whatever prudence I had left. I dropped to my knees on the packed dirt, right between him and the car. I looked up at him and unbuttoned his pants without asking permission.

—I want to taste you —I said.

Bruno pulled out his cock with clumsy urgency, as if his hands couldn’t move fast enough. It was hard, hot, pointing at my mouth. I parted my lips and let the tip slide in slowly, just a little at first, savoring the salt of his skin and the tension in his body.

He took me by the nape without forcing me, but setting the pace. I closed my lips around his cock and began sucking him calmly, taking him deeper with every movement. I felt him swell against my tongue, felt him breathe harder each time he came almost to my throat.

—That’s it, Camila... just like that —he groaned.

Hearing my name in his mouth sent a shiver through me. I pulled him out only to lick him from base to tip and spit on him. Then I swallowed him again, wetter and deeper, one hand wrapped around the base and the other inside my own shorts.

I touched myself over my thong while I sucked him. The fabric was drenched. I rubbed my clitoris with two fingers, slowly at first, then with more pressure, letting my moans vibrate around his cock.

—You love having me like this, don’t you? —I asked, looking up at him.

—You’re driving me crazy.

—Then fuck me.

He yanked open the passenger door. I stood up, turned around, and braced my hands on the seat, sticking my ass out. Bruno pulled my shorts and thong down to my thighs in one motion. The cool air touched my wet skin and made me sigh.

First he caressed me with his fingers. He ran them over my lips, opened them, slid two fingers inside me, and tested how easily they went in. I pushed back impatiently, searching for something thicker, something that would truly fill me.

—Don’t make me wait —I said.

He held my hip and positioned the tip at my entrance. When he entered, he did it slowly at first, but my wetness welcomed him without resistance. I felt him opening me, felt every inch stretch me until I was breathless. I rested my forehead against the seatback and moaned loudly.

—Fuck, you’re so tight —he said.

—Move.

Bruno started fucking me against the car. His hips struck my ass with a dry, repeated, obscene sound. I gripped the seat and the doorframe, legs spread, my shorts caught around my thighs and my shirt pushed up to my neck.

Every thrust tore a moan from me. I didn’t try to hold back. The field was empty, the town’s music was far away, and I wanted to hear everything: his breathing, my panting, the slap of his skin against mine, the door creaking each time he pushed harder.

—More —I begged—. Fuck me deeper.

He grabbed my ass with both hands and spread my cheeks so he could watch himself penetrate me. That feeling of being exposed turned me on even more. I felt dirty, wanted, completely surrendered to a man who, until recently, had been almost a stranger and was now fucking me on a dirt road.

His fingers moved down my crack and brushed my anus. I didn’t say no. On the contrary, I pushed back a little so he would understand. He caressed me there while continuing to move in and out of my vagina, carefully at first, then pressing until he slipped the tip of one finger inside my ass.

—Like that —I moaned—. Don’t stop.

The combination made me lose control. His cock filled me from the front while his finger opened me from behind, creating an intense, delicious pressure. I touched my clitoris with one hand, rubbing quickly in time with his thrusts.

—I’m going to come —I warned.

Bruno sped up. He fucked me harder, burying himself to the hilt while his finger remained inside my ass. The orgasm rose from my pelvis like an electric shock. I screamed, squeezed my legs, felt my vagina pulsing around his cock, and was left trembling against the seat.

He didn’t pull out. He slowed down, gave me a few seconds, but kept moving inside me with cruel deliberation.

—I’m not done with you —he said.

I laughed weakly, still breathless.

—Then tell me where you want me.

He turned me around on the same seat and penetrated me from the front. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around him with difficulty, half sitting, half lying down, feeling the open door beside me and the immense night all around. I kissed him while he fucked me with short, deep thrusts, looking into my eyes every time he entered.

—Don’t come yet —I whispered in his ear—. I want you to fuck me outside, where I can see you.

He pulled away, jaw clenched. He lifted me almost abruptly and carried me to the front of the car. The hood was warm from the engine. I climbed onto it, rested my back against the metal, and spread my legs beneath the headlights.

The scene made me feel shameless to the bone. Me, breasts bare, shorts tangled around one leg and thong pulled down, displaying myself beneath the lights as if the field were a private stage.

—Look at me —I said.

Bruno came between my legs, still hard, glistening with my wetness and saliva. I took him in my hand, rubbed him against my vulva, and then moved him a little lower.

—Now from behind —I murmured.

He looked at me to make sure he had understood. I lifted my hips, spread myself with one hand, and guided the tip to my anus. I was nervous, yes, but hotter than I was afraid. I wanted to feel him there; I wanted to take that night all the way to the limit we’d been imagining in our messages.

He entered slowly. The pressure made me open my mouth and grip the edge of the hood. At first it was only the tip, an intense burning that forced me to breathe deeply. Then, inch by inch, his cock sank into my ass while I touched my clitoris, turning the discomfort into pleasure.

—Slowly... like that, like that —I said between moans—. You’re inside.

Once he was deeper, he began moving carefully. Every withdrawal made me feel empty, and every entry filled me with brutal pressure. My back was against the metal, my legs spread, my fingers working continuously over my clitoris.

—You look incredible like this —he panted.

—Fuck me. Don’t just stand there watching.

The words broke him. He grabbed my thighs and began fucking my ass with more rhythm, more confidence, sinking as far as my body allowed. I moaned at the dark sky, the headlights illuminating us from below, the wet sound of my hand rubbing myself mingling with his thrusts.

It was different from everything before. Deeper, dirtier, more mine. I felt his cock pushing inside my ass while, at the same time, my fingers, wet with my own juices, worked inside my vagina, brushing the tension of every movement. I liked it so much that I was angry I’d waited so long to ask for it like this.

—Don’t stop —I repeated—. I’m going to come again.

Bruno gritted his teeth and kept going. I sped up my hand on my clitoris, rubbing in fast circles while the hood vibrated beneath my back. The second orgasm seized me harder than the first. I arched, screamed his name, and felt my entire body contract around that anal penetration that left me incapable of thinking.

He kept moving in and out, but he was already at the limit. I saw it in his face, in the way he closed his eyes, in the muscles of his arms tensed over my legs.

—Camila, I can’t hold it anymore.

I sat up as best I could, my legs still trembling. He pulled out, and I climbed down from the hood, ending up on my knees in front of him. My mouth was already open before I thought about it, but Bruno grabbed my hair and held me at a short distance.

—On your face —he said, his voice broken.

I looked at him and nodded. He began jerking off quickly, aiming at me. The first spurt landed on my lips and chin; the second, hot, splashed my cheek. Some of it went into my mouth because I couldn’t stop myself from moving closer. I tasted it while he finished coming with a long, almost disbelieving groan.

We stayed silent for a few seconds. I remained on my knees, disheveled, semen on my face and my body sensitive, while the distant music from the party seemed to come from another life.

Bruno helped me up. I wiped myself as best I could with my shirt and pulled up my shorts, laughing quietly, still trembling. He looked at me as if he didn’t know what to say after imagining so much and receiving even more.

—Should I take you back? —he asked.

I looked toward the road, toward the town lights and that version of me who had left saying she’d be home early.

—Yes —I replied—. But take the long way around.