That Summer by the River Changed Me Forever

It was January of 1998, in one of those inland towns in Santa Fe where summer spares no one. The sun turned the exposed-brick houses into ovens by day and saunas by night. In ordinary homes there was no air conditioning, no fans that did anything useful, only the buzz of mosquitoes and the smell of hot earth drifting in through the open windows. With no cell phones, no internet, nothing to keep us indoors, the kids in the neighborhood roamed the streets like dogs in heat, looking for shade, an ice cream, or any excuse to touch one another.

I had just turned nineteen. I had finished high school the previous summer and worked half days behind the counter at a convenience store on the avenue. I had a woman’s body already: big breasts, a defined waist, and an ass that no longer fit into any pair of panties. In the neighborhood, girls like me were a dime a dozen. We knew it, and so did they: if a girl let herself be groped for long enough, she ended up with marked-up knees and a soaking wet crotch. I was not the kind to play hard to get. I liked feeling desired, used, feeling my body was the center of something wild and inevitable.

My mother was a single parent, worked long shifts at the meatpacking plant, and brought home rough men who made her scream until three in the morning. I heard her from my room: the headboard hitting the wall, the low insults, her moans that ended in a cry of pleasure. We were alike, the two of us. And in that neighborhood, being like that meant they sent you back home well opened up and with your legs shaking.

That Sunday afternoon a big group of us went down to the river. We hadn’t planned on getting in the water, so the girls went in wearing panties and bras, and the guys in their briefs. The water was warm, brown, perfect for hiding hands. From the first splash the groping started. Pampa got his hands on me almost right away.

Pampa was two years older, lived down in the low part of town, in a house of tin and cardboard where the smell of stew mixed with gasoline and wet dirt. He was big, dark-skinned, with skin shining in the sun, and a stare that commanded respect. Everyone called him Pampa, though his name was Damián. Nobody messed with him.

He kept me pressed against his body all afternoon. Huge hands on my breasts, fingers slipping under my panties, squeezing my ass, prying it apart. At one point, while we were splashing around, his cock “accidentally” slipped out through the opening of his briefs. I saw it all: thick, veined, mushroom-headed, dark, hanging heavy. I stared at it with my mouth open. He didn’t rush to hide it. He stroked it slowly, gave it one shake, and nodded at me.

—Look closely, chubby —he said, with a half-smile.

After that he didn’t let me go. He pressed his cock against my ass whenever he could, rubbed himself against my crotch, spoke into my ear.

—I’m gonna wreck you, little slut.

Around six the others started gathering their things to leave. Pampa came up to me, wrapped one arm around my waist, and said quietly into my ear.

—Stay a while longer with me.

I nodded. I knew perfectly well what for. The others were cracking up as they walked away, shouting things like “Take care, Marina!” or “Don’t leave her completely broken, Pampa!”

***

When we were alone, he pulled me against his chest and shoved his tongue down my throat. His hands grabbed my ass, spread it, squeezed it. I felt his cock growing against my belly, hard as iron.

—What do you think of my cock, chubby?

—You’ve got a huge cock… I’ve never seen one this thick —I murmured, my voice trembling.

That lit him up. He grabbed my panties and yanked the fabric up until it pinched between my legs and hurt. He gave my ass two hard slaps.

—You know what I do to chubby girls like you? I leave them walking crooked for a week.

—Oh, don’t be mean… don’t hit me too hard, it’s gonna hurt.

He kissed me again, violently, and pushed me downward. I fell to my knees on the damp grass. He pulled down his briefs and his cock sprang up in front of my face. It was enormous. It pulsed like a living heart, veins standing out, the tip shiny. I touched his balls: hard as stones.

—Suck it. Swallow it or I’ll make you swallow it.

I opened my mouth as wide as I could. The head barely fit. I could feel it throbbing inside, growing. He pushed it in slowly, thrusting, until I gagged. He grabbed my hair and started fucking my mouth. I stayed like that for a long while: sucking, licking his balls, running it over my face, giving him a hand job with both hands. Harder and harder, thicker and thicker.

When he got tired, he yanked me up by the hair, pulled my panties down in one jerk, and put me on all fours.

—Come on, get everything ready, I’m gonna leave you marked up.

—Slowly, please… don’t break me with that horse cock.

He grabbed my hips, bit my neck, and settled behind me. More slaps. Insults in my ear. I just kept asking him not to go too hard, and that only made him worse.

He crouched, spat, and shoved it all the way in with one thrust. It slid in as if my body had been made to take it. It didn’t hurt. It was a complete invasion, overwhelming, delicious. I felt full, desired, devoured. Pampa talked to me while he pumped.

—Look how easy it goes in… you’re just like your mother.

—What? —I moaned, stunned.

—Your mom used to arch her back just like you when I fucked her.

Two or three harder thrusts made me forget the line. I moaned, screamed, gave myself over. He pounded me until the sun started to go down behind the trees. Suddenly he flipped me by the hair, put his cock in front of my face, and emptied himself into my mouth. Thick, hot spurts. I swallowed everything while he squeezed the back of my neck.

We lay in the grass for a while, panting. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and pulled my panties back on. As we walked home, I couldn’t hold it in.

—Pampa… is what you said about my mom true?

He went quiet for a moment.

—Forgive me, Marina. I shouldn’t have said that. It slipped out.

I was surprised by the soft tone, almost tender. And then he hugged me. I curled up against his chest. We kissed slowly, deeply, differently. It wasn’t just heat. There was something else.

—Come to the house tomorrow —he said—. I want to sleep with you.

I smiled. I told him that would be lovely, but my mother wouldn’t let me.

—I’ll handle it —he replied.

***

The next day, after the kiosk, I hurried home. My mother came back later, looking tired. She told me she had to go to the wake for a supervisor from the meatpacking plant and would be back late. As soon as she left, Pampa showed up at the door.

—All sorted, chubby. Your old lady’s not coming home tonight.

—How did you know about the wake?

—What wake, girl? Your mom went to meet my brother and two other guys from the plant. They’re gonna keep her busy all night.

I stood there with my mouth open. The revelation turned me on more than I expected. I felt my crotch soak through all at once, my nipples hard. Pampa lifted me as if I weighed nothing, threw me over his shoulder, and carried me to my room. He tossed me onto the bed and gave me the first fucking of the night.

He wrecked me. He climbed on top of me, driving it all the way in. He put my legs beside my head, leaving me completely open. He licked my face, talked dirty to me, told me he was going to make me useless for anyone else.

The thrusts were so hard they ripped one moan after another from me. He pulled his cock out, turned me by the hair, and put me face down.

—So you want me to do it from behind too? I’m gonna leave you open, slut.

He slapped me until my skin went red. He spread my ass cheeks apart, spat. He climbed on top of me and bit my neck. I was already trembling with fear and desire at the same time.

—Baby, please… slow… it hurts so much when they do it there and you’re so big… be sweet… don’t make me cry.

My plea only made things worse. He drove in halfway with one thrust. I screamed like a madwoman. He started pumping without mercy. I cried, begged him not to tear me apart any more, but every plea made him go harder. He stayed like that for a long time, cursing me, saying he loved breaking in little sluts like me.

When he came, I felt his hot spurts inside me. He stayed in me for a while, panting. Then he turned me around, kissed me softly, and said:

—You’re beautiful, Marina. I’m not going to hurt you more than you want.

That night we fucked until dawn. In every position. He made me cry, made me moan, made me beg him not to stop.

***

The next morning we were woken by the front door. Pampa dressed quickly. I put on a long T-shirt that covered me halfway down my thighs. In the living room, my mother came face to face with him.

—Hi, Mom… this is Pampa… he came by to return a book I lent him.

Pampa greeted her very politely, almost shy. My mother looked at him, then at me. She noticed the way I walked: I was limping a little, my whole body hurt. She went into her room without saying a word.

I walked Pampa out to the street. We kissed for a long time, tenderly. He whispered in my ear:

—I’m coming back tonight. Get ready.

And he came back. And he came back many more nights.

Over time, my mother stopped pretending. Sometimes she came home late and found Pampa in my room, with me open and trembling with pleasure. One night, instead of getting angry, she stayed there watching from the doorway. Then she came over, stroked my face, and said to him:

—Fuck her hard, Pampa. This one needs a proper taming.

And Pampa fucked me hard. While he pounded me to pieces, my mother kissed me, licked away my tears, put her fingers in me. That night the three of us ended up in the big bed. She opened herself for him too. Pampa used both of us. Filled both of us.

The summer went on. Pampa became something more than a neighborhood stud. He was my first wild love, the one who taught me I could be easy and still be loved at the same time.

Sometimes, thirty years later, when the heat wakes me in the middle of the night, I close my eyes and feel again that huge cock opening me, that rough voice saying dirty things in my ear, and I smile. Because even though Pampa is no longer here, the memory of how he made me a woman still throbs between my legs.