The Confession I Hadn’t Made to Anyone Until Today

My name is Andrés. Thirty-two years old, six foot one, I work in distribution, and I’ve lived a life that looks a lot like most people’s: I keep to schedules, check emails, sit through meetings where nothing changes much. I wasn’t complaining. I wasn’t unhappy. I was just predictable. Until I met Valeria.

It was at a party in the apartment of some mutual friends, at the beginning of autumn. Small downtown flat, too many people, music louder than was reasonable. I was in the kitchen looking for ice when I noticed someone had come to stand right behind me. She leaned in slightly and spoke in my ear in a low, direct voice, with no pretense:

—I’ve been staring at your ass all night. Are you going to buy me a drink, or am I helping myself?

I turned around. She was small, with very short brown hair and light eyes that sized you up before you even opened your mouth. Twenty-seven years old, I found out later. Her name was Valeria, and she had the kind of confidence you don’t learn, the kind that comes from knowing exactly what you want.

That same night we ended up in the house’s bathroom.

She locked the door, hiked her skirt up to her waist, and braced herself against the sink. She wasn’t wearing panties. She looked at me in the mirror while she opened my belt with one hand and took my cock, already hard, out with the other.

—Put it in me —she said, not lowering her voice—. All at once, don’t go easy on me.

I grabbed her hips and thrust into her in one stroke. She was soaked, so wet I slid all the way in without resistance, and she let out a guttural moan she swallowed by biting her lip. I saw her face in the mirror, her eyes half-closed, mouth open. I started fucking her fast, without care, slapping against her ass with a wet sound that, in the bathroom’s silence, sounded obscene. She braced herself on both hands and pushed back each time I thrust forward, trying to make me go deeper.

—Harder —she panted—. Fuck me like you don’t know me.

I grabbed her short hair at the nape of her neck and sped up. Her small tits bounced against the cold porcelain of the sink under her blouse. I could feel her pussy tightening in waves, sucking my cock from the inside. She came in two minutes, biting her forearm so she wouldn’t scream, and her orgasm dragged me with her: I emptied myself inside her with three final thrusts that drew a long moan out of her. When I pulled out, a thread of semen slid down the inside of her thigh. She tucked her panties back up inside her with two fingers, as if it were part of some private ritual, and licked her fingers while looking at me.

She straightened her skirt, kissed me on the cheek, and recited her phone number from memory, as if we’d known each other for years.

—Call me when you’re not busy being so serious —she said, and went back to the party as if nothing had happened.

***

Valeria lived alone in a well-appointed apartment, with shelves full of books she had in fact read. I called her the next day. Ten days later I was sleeping there half the week. Three weeks later I had practically moved in.

She was insatiable in a way that had nothing fake about it. She’d wake me at two in the morning with her mouth already on my cock, sucking it slowly until I opened my eyes, and then she’d climb on top and take me all the way in without saying a word. She’d wait for me in the shower with her tits lathered in soap and her hand between her legs. She’d send me messages during work — photos of her pussy spread open with two fingers inside, voice notes of her panting my name — that forced me to shut the laptop before anyone could glance over my shoulder. She lived sex with the same naturalness other people reserve for sports, and for someone who came from relationships where everything was negotiated and measured, it was completely addictive.

She loved having me eat her out for hours. She’d spread her legs on the sofa and shove my head against her pussy with both hands, riding my face while she watched TV, coming three or four times in a row until her thighs were trembling and her hair stuck to her forehead. Then she’d straddle me and take care of me with the same dedication, sucking me all the way to the back of her throat, letting saliva run down her chin, always looking me in the eyes.

But the conversation that changed everything didn’t happen in bed. It happened on the sofa, one Tuesday night, with a movie half-watched and a glass of wine in each of our hands.

Valeria had her head on my chest and was idly playing with my fingers. Without looking at me, in a calm voice:

—Sometimes I watch gay porn when I’m alone. It really turns me on.

I didn’t answer right away. I waited.

—It excites me to imagine that’s you in there. —She looked up—. You don’t need to make that face. I’m only telling you because your real reaction interests me more than the one you think you’re supposed to have.

—What exactly do you imagine? —I asked.

She smiled. It was the smile of someone who already knows the answer and is simply waiting for the other person to get there on their own.

—That you get on your knees. That you open your mouth. That some guy shoves his cock down your throat and you suck him because you want to. That another one is fucking your ass at the same time. And that I’m watching, and that it matters to you just as much as what you’re doing.

Something in my stomach shifted in a way I still didn’t have a name for. It wasn’t fear. It was something else. I was getting hard, and she noticed without looking.

—I see —she said, and put her hand in my crotch without stopping smiling.

***

What followed was slow and deliberate. Valeria wasn’t in any hurry. She never was.

It started with something small, one night while she was sucking me off. She had my entire cock in her mouth, one hand playing with my balls, when I felt a lubricated finger searching for my ass. She paused for a second, waited, and very slowly pushed in to the knuckle. She curved the finger forward and found something that made a sound slip out of me I didn’t recognize as my own, a deep moan, almost surprised. She didn’t say anything. She kept sucking me while she fucked me with her finger, finding that spot again and again, until I came in her mouth with an intensity that bent my knees. She swallowed every drop without pulling away, slowly withdrew the finger, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

—That spot —she said calmly—. You have it there. It’s yours. We’re going to use it.

At night she talked to me with the lights off. She didn’t give instructions; she talked, and that difference made time pass differently. Can you imagine what a cock would feel like in there? Big, hard, pushing until you feel like there’s no more room? Does thinking about it turn you on? I listened without knowing what to say, but my body answered for me and that was enough for both of us. Many nights she jerked me off while whispering in my ear, and when I came, I came in spurts, splattering all the way to my chest.

A week later she arrived with a small bag. Inside was a black silicone plug and a bottle of lube. She set it on the bedside table with the same calm she would have used to leave a book there.

—I want you to get used to it —she explained—. No rush. This is for the next few weeks, not necessarily for tonight.

But that night, yes. She undressed me slowly, put me face down on the bed with a pillow under my hips, and a long time passed before anything went in. She started by licking my ass, spreading my cheeks with her hands and sliding her tongue between them, pressing the tip against my hole until it opened enough to slip inside. My cock was flattened against the pillow, rock hard, leaking pre-cum. Then came the lube, cold, and her fingers: one, two, moving in circles, opening me slowly.

When I finally felt the plug cross that first resistance and settle completely inside, with the maximum flare stretching me before it narrowed at the base, I let out a long, low moan that surprised me. A new sensation, dense, filling me in a way I had no point of reference for.

—That’s it —she murmured, one hand spread across my back—. Stay still. Just feel.

She put her fingers in her pussy in front of my face for me to lick, and used her other hand on her clit until she came over my shoulder, with the plug still inside me, pressing into me. Then she rode my face, sat on my mouth, and I came on my own, with my cock untouched, feeling the plug move inside me every time I clenched.

I fell asleep with it still in there. The next morning she removed it carefully, made me coffee, and left it on the bedside table. A completely normal day.

Except it was no longer the same as the day before.

***

The Thursday of the following week she arrived with a black box. An adjustable leather harness, a thick, long silicone dildo, considerably larger than the plug, and two bottles of lube.

—Tonight I fuck you —she said. No question. No preamble.

What surprised me was discovering that my first reaction wasn’t resistance. It was more like relief that what we’d been building toward for weeks was finally being said out loud.

She positioned me in the center of the bed with my hips raised on two pillows, face to the mattress, ass lifted and open for her. She took a long time preparing the ground before putting on the harness. She licked me, opened me with her fingers —one, two, three, four— worked me until the hole stayed open even after she pulled her fingers out. I was panting into the sheets, my cock dripping between my legs.

—Look at you —she said, giving me a soft slap on the ass—. Wide open for me. A hungry ass, that’s what you’ve got.

She put on the harness. I heard the buckles click as they tightened around her hips. When I felt the thick tip of the dildo, loaded with lube, press against my entrance, I held my breath.

—Breathe —she said, and pushed slowly.

It was slow. Centimeter by centimeter. The stretch was intense, on the edge of what I could take, but controlled. I felt every millimeter of silicone forcing its way in, widening me, pushing deeper than anything ever had before. When the base touched my ass cheeks I let out a long sound from some place in me I hadn’t explored before. Valeria stayed still for a few seconds, not moving, letting me feel how full I was, how her fake cock occupied all the space inside me.

—How are you doing? —she asked, leaning over my back to kiss me between the shoulder blades.

—Good —I said. And it was true.

She started moving. Short strokes at first, coming out only a few centimeters and going back in. Then longer pulls, almost all the way out, and deep, firm thrusts. She leaned over my back, kissed my shoulder, nipped my neck gently. Her tits pressed against my back, nipples hard. She built rhythm without rushing. She started fucking me for real, with full thrusts, slamming against my ass. I could feel the harness hitting me with every push.

—Take it, take it, take it —she murmured in time with the thrusts—. There. This ass is mine. Look how it swallows it.

She was hitting my prostate with every thrust, a sharp electric jolt that ran up my spine. I was coming from the inside without coming, in waves that never quite arrived and never quite left. At some point in the process I stopped thinking and surrendered completely to what was happening, which was something with no precise name but very clear in the body. I reached down to touch myself and she pushed my hand away.

—No. Like this. No hands. Come with my cock inside you.

And I came. Without anyone touching me. My cock jumping on its own, shooting thick ropes of semen onto the pillows beneath me, with an intensity that left me speechless for several minutes. She kept thrusting through my orgasm, stretching it out, until I was shaking.

Valeria pulled out slowly —I felt the enormous emptiness she left behind— took off the harness, and lay down beside me. She looked at me with an expression that mixed satisfaction with something softer, more personal. She ran her fingers through my sweaty hair.

—Friday, a friend of mine is coming —she said after a long silence—. Someone I trust. I just want you to be there with us. If at any point you don’t want to keep going, you stop, and that’s that.

I took less time than I expected to nod.

***

Friday arrived with a fog of anticipation that sat in my chest all day. I couldn’t focus on anything useful at the office. I left early.

Valeria received me at the apartment with that characteristic calm of hers that wasn’t indifference but the opposite: total attention disguised as naturalness. She asked me to be naked, kneeling in the living room, when he arrived. I thought about it for a moment. I decided I wanted to do it. The difference between doing something because someone asks and doing it because you choose to matters, even if the outward result is identical.

Rodrigo arrived at ten at night. Thirty-five years old, tall, scruffy beard, the kind of man who doesn’t need to fill the silence. When he saw me kneeling in the middle of the rug, he nodded briefly, without drama, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

—Valeria told me about you —he said.

He undressed slowly. He had the body of someone who exercises but doesn’t live for it, a chest with a bit of dark hair, and a cock already half-hard between his legs that kept growing as he came closer. Thick, with prominent veins, the head engorged. Bigger than mine. Valeria stood behind me, put her hands on my shoulders, and kissed my temple.

—I just want you to try it —she murmured—. Open your mouth for him. When you want to stop, you stop.

Rodrigo came close enough that the tip of his cock touched my lips. He was fully hard, right at my face, with a calm I didn’t have. He smelled like clean skin and something that turned out to be more familiar than I expected. He held it by the base with his hand, pointing it at me.

I opened my mouth.

The first seconds were pure calibration: the temperature, the weight, the texture of the skin, the slightly salty taste of pre-cum already showing at the tip. He slid it in slowly, a few inches, let me get used to it, and pushed a little more. I focused on moving with attention, on not thinking too much, on using my tongue around the head the way I knew I liked. Valeria guided me with her voice, without touching me, telling me how to move, how to breathe.

—Good —she said—. Slower. Suck it all the way. There, like that. Let him take it deeper.

Rodrigo had one hand on the back of my neck, not pressing, just holding it. He started moving in my mouth with short thrusts, in and out, letting me breathe between them. Every so often he pushed deeper and hit my throat, and I learned to swallow, not to tighten up, to let my mouth be a hole for him. Every so often he let out a low sound from his chest and I understood I was doing it right. That signal, I discovered, had an effect I hadn’t expected: I was getting hard as a rock, dripping onto my own thighs, just from feeling a man enjoy my mouth.

Valeria positioned herself behind me and started preparing me with her fingers while I kept going. Cold, her tongue first, then the lube, then two fingers that went in without resistance because she already knew how to open me. The combination of both points of attention was something I had no frame of reference for. A cock in my mouth, two fingers in my ass, and me between the two, breathing through my nose, surrendered. The body responded in both places at once, and that was impossible to ignore.

When Rodrigo was close to the edge —I noticed it in the way his cock swelled even more against my palate and in the tremor in his thighs— Valeria made a small gesture and he withdrew. A string of saliva and pre-cum hung from my mouth to the tip of his cock.

—That’s enough for tonight —she said—. Let him stay wanting.

Rodrigo dressed, we said goodnight, and Valeria took me to bed. Before sleeping, she climbed on top and fucked my hard, frustrated cock until she came twice, whispering in my ear how good I had looked on my knees. When she finally let me come inside her, it was almost painful it was so intense.

We lay in silence for a long while, the lights off.

—How are you? —she asked.

—Good —I said—. When is he coming back?

She smiled in the dark.

—Saturday, with one of his friends.

***

On Saturday Valeria spent the afternoon preparing me with an attention that had nothing mechanical about it. She put me in the bathtub, washed me inside carefully, shaved the last areas I had been putting off. She made me lie face down and worked my ass with her fingers and with the bigger plug, increasing the size little by little so that by nightfall I’d already be open. She talked to me the whole time. She didn’t give instructions; she talked, and that made the body relax on its own, without me noticing I was breathing more slowly.

—Tonight there are going to be two of them —she told me in my ear, her fingers moving inside me—. One in front and one behind. And I’ll be watching everything. I want to see you filled on both sides. I want to see you come without anyone touching your cock. Can you imagine it?

I nodded into the pillow, with my cock hard beneath me.

Rodrigo arrived at eleven with his friend Tomás. Broader, tattooed arms, few words, and that kind of physical presence that doesn’t need to announce itself. When he undressed, I saw he was even bigger than Rodrigo, thick from the base, with heavy balls. They looked at me without judgment, with the same naturalness Valeria put into everything.

She sat on the sofa with her legs crossed, in panties and nothing on top, her small tits bare and her nipples hard.

—Tonight I want to see the three of you —she said simply—. No rush. I’ll tell you when it’s over.

I got on all fours in the middle of the rug. Rodrigo took position in front, his cock already hard in front of my face. Tomás knelt behind me between my legs. I felt open, exposed, available, and discovered that was exactly what I wanted to feel.

I opened my mouth for Rodrigo without needing to be asked. He shoved it down my throat on the first thrust, taking advantage of the fact I already knew it from the night before, and started fucking my mouth with a steady rhythm, gripping my head with both hands. I relaxed my jaw and let him go in and out, tasting him, feeling the thick vein along the underside against my tongue.

Behind me, Tomás was lubing me up. I felt his thick fingers opening me, first one, then two, then the tip of his cock pressing against my entrance. Huge. Much thicker than anything I’d ever had inside me. I held my breath.

—Relax —he said, in a deep voice, the first time he spoke—. Easy. Push back against me, don’t pull away.

I pushed back and he pushed forward, and his cock started to enter. The stretch was more intense than with Valeria’s harness, burning at the edge, but he knew what he was doing: he advanced in stages, waiting at each one until my body opened on its own. When I finally felt his hips against my ass cheeks, and his heavy balls hanging against my perineum, I let out a muffled moan around Rodrigo’s cock. I was full on both sides. Impaled.

The rhythm between the two of them came without needing to be negotiated, as if they had done it together before. When one pulled out, the other entered. When one went all the way in, the other gave me time to breathe. Tomás fucked me with long, deep thrusts, slamming into me with a wet sound each time, giving me occasional slaps on the ass that made me clench around his cock. Rodrigo used my mouth, alternating between fast thrusts and moments where he stayed buried in my throat and forced me to keep him there for a few seconds, until my eyes watered.

Valeria moaned from the sofa. She’d taken off her panties and had two fingers in her pussy, touching herself slowly, without hurrying, wearing that expression of serene satisfaction that excited me as much as anything else in that room. With her other hand she pinched one nipple.

—Like that —she said every now and then—. Exactly like that. Look at him, look how much he likes it. Look at the poor guy’s cock, it’s going to explode without anyone touching it.

And it was true. My cock hung between my legs rock hard, dripping a steady thread of fluid onto the rug, jumping on its own with every thrust from Tomás against my prostate.

I don’t know how long it lasted. Time works differently in that state. What I do know is that at some point I stopped paying attention to myself, to whether I was doing it right, to what they might think of me, and found myself simply present. No self-monitoring. No distance between what was happening and me. One cock in my throat, another buried to the hilt in my ass, and I myself completely turned into the hole where the two of them were getting their pleasure.

I came without anyone touching me. The orgasm started from inside, from that point Tomás wouldn’t stop punishing with the thick head of his cock, and spread outward in waves. My cock jumped on its own, shooting thick ropes of semen onto the rug beneath me, and I was conscious of every second of it in a way I had never experienced before. Long, clean, no hangover. I moaned around Rodrigo with my mouth full.

Rodrigo came in my mouth soon after, holding my head with both hands and pushing all the way in while he filled my throat with thick, hot seed. I swallowed as much as I could, feeling the salty, dense taste slide down inside, while what escaped ran down my chin. When he pulled out, I licked my lips without thinking.

Tomás grabbed my hips with both hands and sped up. I could feel him swelling inside me, pushing deeper each time, until he let out an animal groan from his chest and filled me. It was a long release, in waves, each one accompanied by a slower thrust. I felt the heat spreading inside. When he came out, a thick stream of semen leaked down my thighs to my knees.

Valeria came while watching, biting her lip, her fingers soaked. She came over to me, crouched down, and kissed me on the mouth with Rodrigo still on my tongue, with no resistance at all. Then, without saying a word, she crouched behind me and licked the semen that was dripping from my ass, sucking out what Tomás had left inside me. I shuddered all over.

When the two of them left, Valeria took me to the bathroom. She washed me with hot water and patience, brought me water, put me in bed, and lay down beside me. She held me from behind, one arm across my chest, and kissed the back of my neck several times.

—How are you? —she asked for the third time in two weeks.

I thought about the answer for a moment.

—Different —I said.

She nodded as if that were exactly what she had expected to hear.

I didn’t fall asleep until late. I stared at the ceiling in the dark and thought about the man I had been when I went into that kitchen looking for ice, believing I had things more or less figured out. The same man, in every way that mattered. Only with the boundaries of what was possible drawn somewhere else.

Valeria had asked me from the beginning what I wanted. Not what I was supposed to want, or what was reasonable to want. What I truly wanted.

That question, it turns out, changes everything when someone asks it in earnest.