My Curiosity About My Boyfriend’s Cousin Was My Downfall

Here I am again, telling something I promised myself I wouldn’t tell anyone. Those who follow what I write already know that I’ve been dating Damián for a few months now, the track-and-field guy who turned my life upside down from the very first night. He’s attentive, handsome, and, why deny it, endowed in a way that had ruined every previous comparison for me. I thought he had cured me forever of my weakness for very well-equipped men. I was wrong.

What I’m about to confess happened over the course of several weeks, so be patient. It all started one morning, after I spent the night at his house for the first time.

I woke up needing to use the bathroom and stumbled sleepily down the hallway. The door was open and, without thinking, I almost walked in. Inside was a man who wasn’t Damián, his back to me, just finishing urinating. When he heard me, he turned around without the slightest embarrassment, still holding his cock in one hand, and gave me a smile. I gave him the automatic once-over women give, and even though it was soft, it looked thick, hanging heavily between his fingers.

—How’s it going? What do you think? —he said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, giving it a little wave in my direction.

I froze for a second. Then I reacted.

—Sorry… who are you? What are you doing here?

—I’m Damián’s brother. Why? —he replied, without moving, without covering himself.

—I’m Mariana. Damián’s girlfriend.

His smile vanished at once. He turned around quickly, tucked his dick away, and started apologizing.

—I screwed up. I thought you were someone else.

—Someone else like who? —I asked.

—Nothing, forget what happened. I’m sorry.

He practically ran out, and I went back to the bedroom with Damián without saying a word. But the image stayed stuck in my mind. Not because of the kink, at first, but because of the question it left me with: what kind of women was he used to running into at that hour in that house, with his cock in his hand and offering it to them? There was something about that family, and I still didn’t know what it was.

***

As time went by, Damián’s brother grew more comfortable around me. He was friendly, over-the-top, the kind of person who told every story through fits of laughter. One weekend there was a gathering at my boyfriend’s sister’s house, and there he introduced me to a couple of cousins, all tall, dark-haired, carrying that same outrageous confidence the family seemed to share.

The thing was, halfway through the afternoon, Damián told me he had to leave to sort out some paperwork with his coach. I complained a little—I barely knew anyone and felt out of place—but he promised he’d be back in two hours and asked me to stay, to take the opportunity to get to know his people. I agreed reluctantly.

I sat at a table with one of the cousins’ girlfriends, and as the tequilas went around, the atmosphere loosened up. At some point they started teasing her, telling her she was guaranteed a prize that night, and amid the laughter they ended up talking about how well-endowed her boyfriend was, how he left her wrecked every time he fucked her. Damián’s brother, already tipsy, dropped the sentence that changed everything.

—That runs in the family, you know. In fact, my little cousin over there is called “the Stud.” He’s got the biggest one of all of us, and wouldn’t you know it, the poor bastard can’t get a girlfriend.

Everyone laughed. So did I. But something stirred inside me, that old curiosity I thought was asleep, and I felt my panties grow wet just imagining it.

Little by little, the table emptied. His brother got up to greet other guests, the other couple went off to dance, and I was left alone with the famous Stud. His name was Tomás. He was the quietest of them all, almost shy, and that made him even more interesting. The heat of the tequila, curiosity, and a few bad decisions all came together in my head at once.

—Hey, Tomás… is what your cousins say true? Is that why they call you that?

He turned red and lowered his eyes.

—Well… yes, it’s true. Don’t make me nervous —he said, laughing without looking at me.

—It’s nothing. I’m just curious —I insisted, playing with the rim of my glass, biting my lip without realizing it.

There was a long silence. He drained his tequila and, as if gathering his courage, said:

—Do you want to find out?

The moment he said it, he regretted it.

—No, sorry, forget it. You’re Damián’s girlfriend, and you’re very beautiful. I shouldn’t have said that.

I liked seeing him nervous. I liked the power it gave me.

—Relax, it’s okay. You’re right, I shouldn’t. But you know Damián’s isn’t exactly small, so I’m curious to know whether yours is bigger. That’s all.

—If you really want to see it… —he hesitated— go to the bathroom in five minutes. I’ll wait for you.

—You’re only going to show it to me. Nothing else —I warned him.

—Just show it to you —he repeated.

***

I didn’t think about the consequences. I convinced myself it wouldn’t go beyond a look and that this stupid curiosity would fade on its own. I got up discreetly, checked that no one was following me, and walked to the bathroom. I knocked with my heart racing and my pussy already throbbing.

—Who is it? —he asked from inside.

—Mariana —I whispered.

I opened the door, went in, and locked it. When I turned around, there he was, his pants lowered to mid-calf and his cock already hard, pointing upward, thick and veined, its purple head gleaming. I estimated it at nearly a foot long, with a thickness I couldn’t have wrapped my hand around. My mouth went dry.

—Oh my God —escaped my lips—. The thing about the Stud really was true.

—Do you like it? —he asked, gripping it at the base and slowly moving it so I could get a good look.

—You’re very well endowed —I admitted without moving closer, even though my feet seemed to be carrying me toward him on their own—. But that’s it, I only came to see it, okay? I hope you find someone who knows what she’s got in front of her. I’m leaving.

I left before doing something stupid. I barely managed it, because I was already thinking about kneeling down and putting it in my mouth just to find out whether it would fit. I returned to the table with trembling legs, soaked panties, and a new guilt settling in my chest. When Damián came back, I hugged him tightly, as if I could erase what had just happened that way. That night, before I left, Tomás asked for my number. And I, who should have said no, gave it to him.

***

A couple of days passed in silence. Then the first message arrived, harmless enough: how was I, what was I doing. I replied normally, without encouraging him. But on the third day he insisted, and this time it wasn’t so innocent.

—I can’t stop thinking about that day —he wrote.

—It was crazy, wasn’t it? —I replied, laughing to myself in front of the screen.

—Very. And you’re gorgeous. Look what you did to me.

He sent me a picture. His entire cock, hard and gripped in his fist, with a drop of precum hanging from the head. I looked at it longer than I should have. I held the image in my mind for a moment and felt my pussy clench just imagining how that would go inside me.

—Well? Aren’t you going to say anything? —he insisted.

—You have to remember that I’m Damián’s girlfriend.

—I know, I’m sorry. But that curiosity you had wasn’t for nothing. You like them big. Don’t tell me you don’t.

I typed and erased several times. In the end, I was honest.

—I’m not going to deny it. Yes, I like them that way.

In person he was shy. By message he was someone else. He told me that I had already satisfied my curiosity by seeing it, but that feeling it inside me was another matter, that he needed to know how tightly my pussy would squeeze him, and that I shouldn’t play hard to get. I didn’t want to betray Damián, but that scene of his brother mistaking me for just anyone weighed more heavily than it should have, as did the thought that this was probably my only chance in life to have a piece of cock like that split me in two. I convinced myself with the worst excuse of all: once, no one would find out, and that would be the end of it.

—I’m confused —I wrote—. I know this is wrong. But I won’t lie to you: I would like to.

—I know a nice, discreet place. No one will find out, I promise. Give me one chance. What do you say?

I thought about it for several minutes that felt endless.

—Today? —I asked, hating myself a little as I typed it.

—I’ll pick you up at four.

***

I got ready slowly, put on the black lace set that I know makes my ass look great, and something over it that made me feel desirable. I went to the meeting place. The truth was, I hesitated until the very last second. Twice I nearly turned around and stood him up. I got out of the taxi, looked around, and thought, “This is crazy. No.” Then I saw him inside a car, waving me over.

—Mariana, over here! —he called.

I got in. We greeted each other awkwardly, and he drove for a few minutes to a small, pretty hotel, with mirrors and warm lighting that invited you to lose yourself. I sat on the bed, not really knowing what to do with my hands.

—Let me admire you —he said, asking me to stand and turn around—. Damián is a lucky man.

He started slowly, caressing my shoulders and sliding the straps of my blouse down. I undid my bra myself and stood in front of him with my tits bare, my nipples already hard and erect, exposed and nervous.

—Do you like them? —I asked, taking hold of them and offering them to him.

—They’re perfect. Like everything else.

He came closer and sucked one nipple, then the other, tugging gently at it with his teeth until I moaned. He kissed my neck, moved down to my breasts, and lingered there, sucking and licking while I, no longer wanting to think, searched for his belt. I undid his pants and pulled them down in one motion, boxer briefs and all. His cock sprang free, hard, almost hitting my face, and I confirmed that reality surpassed the photograph. I grabbed it with both hands—because it was impossible to encompass it with just one—and weighed it in my palms. It throbbed. I ran my thumb over the head, spreading the drop shining at the tip, and he let out a long moan.

—Fuck, what a hand you have —he murmured.

I brought it to my mouth. I ran my tongue from his balls to the tip, slowly, looking him in the eyes. I tried to take it in, but only the head went in; I tightened my lips around the glans and started sucking him that way, using both hands to jerk off the rest. His voice kept escaping him.

—That’s it, Mariana, like that, suck me like that…

I pulled it out with a wet sound, spit on it, and went back to sucking him, swallowing a little more each time. Drool ran down my chin and gathered between my tits. He grabbed my hair and set the pace, fucking my mouth until my gagging made me let go to breathe. His eyes were watery and he wore a stupid grin.

—Come here —he said, laying me on the bed. He spread my legs, ripped off my soaked panties, and stared at my pussy for a moment before burying his face between my thighs.

He did it with a hunger I hadn’t expected from someone so quiet. He devoured me, thrust his tongue all the way inside, then pulled it out to suck my clitoris with a steady suction that made me writhe. He inserted two fingers, then three, searching for a spot inside me while he kept licking me above. I clung to the sheets and stopped holding back my moans. I felt my whole body loosening, each movement of his tongue stripping away the little sanity I had left.

—You taste incredible —he murmured against my pussy, his mouth gleaming with my juices.

—Don’t stop, don’t stop, I’m going to come —was all I could say.

I came in his mouth with a shudder that shook my legs, pressing his face against me. He didn’t let go until I stopped convulsing.

Then we switched. I wanted to return the favor in a sixty-nine; I climbed on top of him face down and started sucking him again while he kept eating my pussy from below. But because of its shape, it wasn’t easy at all; it kept slipping from my mouth, and the gagging returned. We ended up looking for another position. I straddled his face so he could eat me properly while I leaned forward, licked his balls, and gave him a slow, tight handjob with both hands. That worked much better. I could feel him enjoying it, hear him breathing hard beneath my pussy, and that turned me on more than anything else. I came again over his mouth, soaking him completely.

—Come here —he said at last, lifting me up—. Do you remember what I promised you by message? I’m going to fuck you with this cock until you can’t walk.

He took me against the wall, my back pressed to the cold tile and his body tight against mine. He lifted one of my legs and hooked it around his hip. He kissed me while running the tip of his glans over my pussy lips, up and down, coating himself in my juices, deliberately lingering at the entrance, rubbing me without fully entering, torturing me. Each time the tip sank slightly inside, he pulled it out and rubbed my clitoris with it again.

—Come on, now, put it in, please —I begged—. Put the whole thing in me.

When he finally began, he did it slowly, giving me time to adjust. He inserted the head first and waited, and even that made a long moan escape me. He pushed little by little, gaining an inch at a time, letting me feel myself opening around him. At first it almost hurt; then, as he found his rhythm and I relaxed, everything changed. Each time he thrust back in, he touched an exact spot deep inside that made my vision blur.

—Like that… like that, don’t stop, deeper —I moaned, clawing at his back.

—You’re so tight, fuck —he grunted through clenched teeth—. You’re squeezing my cock dry.

He held my wrists above my head with one hand and squeezed one breast with the other, pinching my nipple, running his hand over my entire body. Every thrust knocked my ass against the wall. My first orgasm came almost without warning, softly, like a warning of what was to come, a long wave that made me close around him and squeeze him inside me. He didn’t stop. He released my hands, grabbed my hips, and began alternating between slow, deep thrusts, sinking all the way to his balls and staying there, making circles with his hips, and quick, sharp ones that knocked the breath out of me.

—It feels so good being inside you —he said, almost against my ear, biting my earlobe—. Do you like the way I put it in you? Tell me you like it.

—Yes… yes, I love it, don’t stop, break me —I replied, lost, not recognizing my own voice—. Fuck me harder.

He pulled his entire cock out, dripping with my juices, and turned me toward the wall. He made me put my hands against the tile, yanked my back into an arch, and spread my legs with a gentle kick. He stared at my ass, grabbed it, squeezed it, and gave me a couple of spanks that left my skin burning.

—What an ass you have, holy shit —he said, then shoved it back inside me from behind in one thrust.

The scream I let out must have been heard all along the hotel corridor. He started fucking me standing up from behind, grabbing my hair and pulling it so I would arch my back farther. Every thrust shook my whole body, making my tits strike the wall. I could hear his balls slapping against me, hear the wet splashing of my soaked pussy swallowing and releasing his cock.

—Come, come again, that’s it —he whispered close to my nape—. Come on my cock.

I came again, for a long time, trembling from head to toe, and he held me up so I wouldn’t fall. Then he lifted me into his arms as if I weighed nothing, held me against the wall with my legs around his waist, and from there took me to the edge again and again, thrusting upward with that monstrous cock that reached all the way to my throat. I reached a point where I could no longer tell where one orgasm ended and the next began. I asked him to stop and, two seconds later, begged him to continue. I was completely out of my mind, drool spilling from the corner of my mouth, biting his shoulder so I wouldn’t scream.

We moved to the bed. He put me on all fours, mounted me from behind, and shoved it back in all the way. He gripped my waist with both hands, pulling me against him, fucking me so deeply I could feel every vein inside me. Then he asked me to get on top. I sat astride him and, looking him in the eyes, began riding him slowly, feeling him sink inch by inch until he touched the deepest part of me, my ass resting against his thighs. He grabbed my tits, sucked them, and urged me to move faster. I began bouncing on his cock like a madwoman and came again that way, my hands on his chest, screaming.

—Tell me before you come —I managed to say, still trembling.

—Don’t worry —he replied, and sped up.

He turned me over, laid me on my back, climbed on top of me, and hammered his cock into me again. When he felt himself getting close, he told me. He pulled out, dripping, and I dropped to my knees on the carpet to receive him with my mouth open and my tongue out. He began jerking himself off a foot from my face, his hand moving quickly, and after a while he released a thick stream of hot cum that splattered me from forehead to chin. There was jet after jet, long and thick, landing on my tongue, lips, and tits. Even the amount surprised me. I put him in my mouth to suck the last drops from him and swallowed everything he had left inside. That surprised me too: it wasn’t desperate or clumsy, but almost leisurely, and for some reason I loved that. Then he helped me back onto the bed, wiped my face with a damp cloth, and we lay there in silence for a while, catching our breath.

—I’m sorry —he said suddenly—. You told me to stop and, two seconds later, you were asking for more. I didn’t know which one to listen to.

—Don’t worry —I laughed, exhausted, my pussy still throbbing—. I definitely enjoyed it.

***

I don’t want to go into every detail of what came afterward, because this is already getting long and because, honestly, I’m still embarrassed to admit how far I went that afternoon. I’ll only say that this quiet, shy man gave me more orgasms than I’d had in my entire life put together, that he fucked me twice more before we left the hotel—once in the shower, with the water pouring over us, and once lying on the bed, already without any strength left—and that at some point I stopped counting. I left almost without any feeling from the waist down, my pussy burning, my legs barely responding, his semen still leaking out of me, and a foolish smile I couldn’t wipe off my face.

—You’re quite the wildcat —he told me while I was getting dressed—. You left me dead. Should we do it again another day?

—I don’t know —I replied, and I meant it—. I can’t answer that right now.

On the way home I tried to convince myself that maybe I’d simply been more sensitive than usual that day, that was why I’d experienced it so intensely, that it didn’t mean anything. But it was a lie, and deep down I knew it. I could still feel Tomás’s cock opening me every time I closed my legs.

I had planned to end this story differently. I was going to say that I would never see him again, that I love Damián and this had been a slip and nothing more. And, in part, that’s true: I love him. But something happened afterward that changed things, something I’d rather tell in another story when I find the courage. For now, I’m left with the guilt, satisfied curiosity, and certainty that there are mistakes a woman makes again if given the chance. Kisses to everyone, and don’t judge me too harshly.