My Girlfriend Confessed the Fantasy That Changed Everything

My name is Hernán. I’m thirty-two years old, I’m one meter eighty-eight, I almost always wear my beard half-shaved, and I have that kind of body people assume comes from the gym and not from the manual labor I’ve been doing since I was sixteen. I work as an analyst at a parts distributor in the industrial park, Monday through Friday, with my head buried in spreadsheets and emails that almost nobody is going to read. A tidy, predictable, gray life. Until Camila showed up.

Camila was thirty, petite, with very short black hair and honey-colored eyes that undid you before you even opened your mouth. We met at a friend’s birthday party, in a narrow apartment downtown. I was in the kitchen pouring myself a whiskey when she came up behind me, pressed her chest against my back, and spoke in my ear with a voice I hadn’t expected.

—I’ve been looking at you from behind for an hour. Are you going to buy me a cigarette, or do I have to steal it?

That same night we ended up in the apartment bathroom. It was fast, dirty, and perfect. She lifted her dress, pushed her underwear to the side, and leaned over the sink. I watched her in the mirror as I sank into her, and that image stuck to me for weeks: the half-closed eyes, the tight mouth, the barely-there smile that was already promising trouble. I came inside her almost without warning, and she kept moving her hips until she let go too, clamping her thighs against my hands.

From that night on, everything changed.

Camila wasn’t like any woman I’d been with. She was insatiable, curious, and knew no shame. She lived alone in a small but very much hers apartment in a quiet neighborhood. Two weeks in, I already had a toothbrush, underwear, and a key to the door. We slept little. We did it a lot. She’d wake me up at three in the morning because she’d seen a video and got turned on. I’d find her on her knees on the bed, ass in the air and two fingers inside herself, murmuring into the pillow.

—Come here, Hernán… eat me out while I finish.

And I went. I liked going.

The taste of her when she was soaking wet got into my head and wouldn’t leave for days. I spent hours between her legs, licking slowly, sucking her clit, moving my tongue while she pulled my hair and pressed me against her body. When she came, she came all at once: trembling, letting out a deep moan, collapsing onto my mouth as if nothing else existed anymore.

One night, after I’d come inside her twice, we were naked on the couch, sharing a joint and watching some random movie. Camila had her head on my chest and was absentmindedly playing with my half-hard cock.

—You know something? —she said suddenly, in that low tone she used when she was about to say something important—. Sometimes I watch gay porn when I’m alone.

I went quiet. I hadn’t expected that, so blunt, so straight to the point.

She looked up and smiled with just the corner of her mouth.

—Don’t look at me like that. I get insanely turned on watching two men without guilt. One sucking the other off, one taking it all the way to the hilt… I get wet just thinking about it.

I felt a strange rush rising up from my stomach. It wasn’t disgust. It was curiosity. And something else, something that made me nervous and that I couldn’t name.

—And does it turn you on to imagine it with me? —I asked, almost in a whisper.

Camila bit her lip and something shifted behind her eyes.

—A lot —she confessed—. I want to see you kneel and give yourself to me. I want to see you calm, abandoned, letting yourself be used. I want to train you slowly. I want you to be my bisexual, mine, the one nobody else knows.

I got hard instantly. She laughed softly, almost wickedly, and squeezed my cock with her hand.

—Look at how hard you get just from hearing it… —she murmured, running her thumb over the tip—. My big boy, so manly, and you’re already imagining another mouth instead of mine.

She kissed me deeply, hungrily, and then lowered her head. She sucked me slowly, without hurry, looking me in the eyes. When I was about to come, she pulled away and whispered in my ear.

—Not yet, love. Save all that for when I make you do it for the first time.

That night we didn’t sleep. We talked for hours. She told me fantasies she’d never told anyone else. I listened with my heart pounding hard and my cock refusing to go down.

What would it be like to feel another person in my mouth?

And that question, for the first time in my life, didn’t scare me.

***

Three weeks passed since that confession, and my head hadn’t stopped.

At the office, while I was matching spreadsheets with suppliers, I’d catch myself thinking about scenes that had never before crossed my mind: a stranger in front of me, Camila looking at me with those honey-colored eyes, whispering in my ear to open wide. I’d get so hard I had to lock myself in the bathroom to finish quickly, biting my forearm so I wouldn’t make a sound while I came into a paper towel.

At night, Camila played with me as if I were her favorite toy.

She started slowly, almost tenderly. At first it was just touches. While we were together, she’d slide a wet finger into me very slowly, searching for that spot that made my whole body tremble. The first time she found it I let out a rough moan I didn’t even recognize as mine. A clear thread of fluid escaped onto her stomach.

—Do you like that, my love? —she asked in a tender, almost romantic voice, moving her finger in circles—. I want you to feel yourself opening. I want you to get used to being full.

I could only gasp and clutch the sheets. She kissed my chest, my neck, nipped my earlobe, and spoke softly to me.

—Imagine it’s not my finger. Imagine it’s someone bigger, hotter, pushing inside. Does it turn you on to think your girlfriend wants to see you like this?

Every time she said it, I got harder. She noticed and laughed against my skin.

One night, after dinner, she took me to the bedroom without saying a word. She undressed me slowly, kissing every inch that came into view. She turned me over on the bed, spread my legs with her hands, and slid between them.

—Easy, sweetheart —she murmured, and I felt her warm breath—. Tonight I’m just going to eat you out.

The first brush of her tongue made me jump. Warm, wet, insistent. She licked around, traced circles, pressed the tip right in the center. I moaned into the pillow, grabbing the fabric with clenched fists. She parted me with both hands and drove her tongue in as if she were looking for something specific, going in and out, tasting me without hurry.

—You taste so good —she murmured between licks—. So hot, so tight. I’m dying to get inside for real.

She stayed like that for almost half an hour. I no longer knew if it was pain or pleasure. When I couldn’t take it anymore, she sat up, reached into the drawer for a small silicone plug she’d left ready, and coated it with lube.

—I’m going to put this in you, love —she said in a sweet voice that didn’t allow for argument—. I want you to get used to being open for me.

She slid it in slowly. I felt the pressure, the stretch, and then that strange, delicious sensation when it went all the way in and my body closed around the base. A long moan tore out of me from deep inside. Camila twisted the plug slightly, brushing that exact spot, and my cock twitched on its own.

—Look at you… —she whispered—. Dripping just from being filled. You’re too sensitive. You’re perfect.

She made me turn over and sat on my face. She lowered herself slowly until her sex found my mouth.

—Now eat me out while you’re wearing the plug —she ordered with that calm I already knew—. I want to come on your tongue while you’re still open.

I licked hungrily. She moved her hips and played with the plug, pulling it out just a little and pushing it back in, rocking against me in short thrusts while I sucked her clit. When she came, she did it screaming my name and crushing my head between her thighs.

Afterward, still trembling, she took my cock in her hand.

—I want you to come thinking about this —she told me in my ear, stroking me slowly—. Imagine that tomorrow I do this to you with the real thing. Imagine I put you on all fours while you watch gay porn… and I open you up until you come without anyone touching you.

I came with a force that left me dizzy.

—That’s it. Come for me. Keep it all… because soon you’re going to learn how to take it too.

That night I slept with the plug still in. Every time I moved, I felt the pressure and my body answered all over again.

There was no going back now.

***

The next few days were a slow torture.

Camila didn’t take the plug out when we were home. In the morning, before I went to the office, she’d make me bend over the bed and replace it with a slightly thicker one, lubricated with her own saliva. I’d go to work feeling it with every step, clenching my jaw in meetings, locking myself in the bathroom twice a day to finish against the tile while thinking about her voice.

On Thursday I got home and there was a black box on the bed. Inside, a harness with a thick dildo, two bottles of lubricant, and a USB drive with no label.

—Tonight I’m going to do it to you —Camila said from the doorway, arms crossed—. But first I want you to watch something with me.

She put the drive into the TV. Gay porn, straight up, no embellishments. Two men. One knelt and took the other all the way down, saliva dripping, deep moans. Then one got on all fours and the other entered him mercilessly.

I couldn’t stop looking. My mouth had gone dry.

Camila settled behind me and grabbed me with her hand between my legs.

—Do you like what you’re seeing, love? —she asked almost tenderly—. Can you picture yourself there?

I nodded. I couldn’t do anything else.

She took out the plug and I felt the emptiness. An emptiness I no longer wanted to feel.

—Get on all fours —she ordered.

I obeyed. Face down on the sheets. Camila fastened the harness around her hips, smeared the dildo with lube, and knelt behind me. I felt the thick head press in.

—Breathe, sweetheart.

It was slow. Centimeter by centimeter. When the base touched my ass, I let out a long, broken moan.

—You’re so tight —she gasped, pausing for a second so I could get used to it.

Then she started moving. Short pullouts, deep entries. Every thrust hit that spot inside and I dripped onto the sheets. The sound was obscene: the lube, her hips against my body, my own muffled moans against the pillow.

Camila leaned over my back and bit my shoulder.

—Tell me what you are —she demanded, moving faster.

—I’m… yours —I gasped.

—More.

—I’m your bisexual. I want this always. I want to do this for you.

She let out a pure moan and gave my ass a firm slap.

—That’s how I want to hear you.

And then it happened. The orgasm caught me off guard, with nobody touching my cock. It started inside, rose, and exploded. I came over the sheets in long spurts while she kept opening me up, stretching the ending to the very last drop.

I collapsed, gasping. Camila slipped out slowly, removed the harness, lay down next to me, and wiped my forehead with her hand.

—You were incredible, love —she murmured, proud—. You came without being touched.

She looked me in the eyes, still heated.

—And that was the warm-up.

She bit her lip with that dangerous smile I already knew.

—Next Friday two friends of mine are coming over. And you’re going to be ready for them.

My cock, still sensitive and messy, reacted on its own just from hearing her.

***

Friday came with nerves and an excitement that barely let me eat.

At exactly eleven, the doorbell rang. I was on my knees on the living room rug, naked, with a medium plug inside me and a leather collar she herself had put on me that afternoon. Camila looked at me one last time before opening the door.

—Stay exactly like that. I want them to see you surrendered.

Santiago and Tomás came in. Santiago: tall, dark, short hair, forty years old, a well-built body without ostentation. Tomás: sturdier, shaved head, tattooed arms. When they saw me on my knees with the collar, their faces changed. It wasn’t surprise. It was approval.

—You’ve got him well prepared —Santiago told Camila, kissing her on the cheek.

She stroked my hair and spoke softly to me.

—My boy is ready. Make him feel the way I promised.

They undressed without hurry. Two different bodies, the smell of adult man filling the room. Camila sat on the couch, spread her legs, and started touching herself slowly, watching me.

—Start with the mouth, love.

Santiago came over first. He held my neck gently and brought his cock to my lips. I opened my mouth. The taste hit me: salty, thick, hot. It wasn’t unpleasant. Not at all.

—That’s it… slowly —Camila guided from the couch, fingers inside herself—. Lick around it. Taste it. That’s it, my love.

I sucked obediently, learning as I went. Tomás positioned himself behind me, pulled out the plug, and lubed his cock. The stretch when he entered was brutal, much bigger than Camila’s dildo. I moaned around the other cock while Santiago held my head with both hands.

They started moving in rhythm. Santiago seeking the back of my throat, Tomás sinking in from behind with deep thrusts. My moans turned into sounds I didn’t know I could make. Saliva, sweat, tears at the corners of my eyes. My cock hung heavy, hard, dripping on its own.

Camila got up from the couch, slid underneath me, and started sucking me while they kept going. Her mouth, warm and familiar, swallowing everything.

—Come with two inside —she told me between licks—. I want to see it.

I didn’t last much longer. The orgasm cut through me from the inside. I came into her mouth in long spurts while Tomás gave me the last few thrusts and Santiago finished on my tongue with a hot taste I swallowed almost all of, some of it spilling down my chin.

Tomás grunted, buried himself to the hilt, and came too with a brutal thrust. I felt his cock throbbing, the heat, then the slow drip as he pulled out.

When it was all over, I collapsed on the rug. Camila knelt in front of me, took my face in both hands, and kissed me deeply, without disgust, tasting everything.

—You were perfect —she whispered—. My boy. My bisexual. Mine.

They both got dressed and left without hurry, saying goodbye to her with a kiss and to me with a pat on the shoulder. Camila closed the door, helped me to my feet, and took me to the shower. She washed me slowly, kissing me every so often, like someone caring for something valuable.

That night, already in bed, while she slept curled against my chest, I stared at the ceiling in the dark. My body hurt. I still had the taste of another person on my tongue. And when I thought about Monday, about next Friday, about what was coming, I didn’t feel fear.

I felt like I was just getting started.