The Friend Who Spied on Me at the Village River

The village where my father lived had a climate that gave no mercy. The heat sank into your skin from dawn and didn’t let up until well into the night, so my refuge during those summers was always the same: a hidden waterfall in a crystal-clear river, far from the center, where almost nobody ever showed up.

Sometimes I went with my cousin Carolina. We walked nearly half an hour along a dirt path until we reached the bend where the water fell into a deep, still pool. We’d go in to get rid of the stifling heat, sometimes in shorts and a blouse, other times completely naked, convinced nobody could see us. That was the silent pact between us: the river was ours, and nobody else knew about it.

Until one day it wasn’t.

We were swimming naked when Carolina suddenly went still. She had seen a bush move on the bank, more than any breeze could explain. She covered herself with her arms and got out of the water almost running, mortified at the idea that a man had seen her like that.

I, on the other hand, didn’t feel the same shame. There was something about knowing I was being watched that didn’t quite bother me. I didn’t cover up, didn’t hide. I got out of the water calmly, dressed without rushing, and we went back to my grandmother’s house talking about something else entirely.

But that feeling stuck to me for days.

***

The next afternoon I wanted to go back, Carolina couldn’t come with me. I didn’t mind. In fact, I think deep down I preferred going alone. I put on a short Lycra dress, tight, with thin straps and a neckline that didn’t leave much to the imagination. I wasn’t wearing a bra, because the fabric showed everything, and every few steps I had to tug it down because it kept riding up my thighs.

On the way to the waterfall I ran into Mateo.

Mateo was one of Camilo’s friends, part of that group of guys in the village who were always together. He was around thirty, several years older than me, tall, fair-skinned, with a way of looking at you that didn’t hide a thing. For a while he’d been circling me with his eyes, and I knew it perfectly well.

—Hi, Daniela! —he said, looking me over from head to toe without the slightest shame.

—Hi, Mateo. How are you? —I replied, letting my voice sound sweeter than necessary.

—Good. You, as always, so pretty.

I felt a tingle run down my belly. It was a silly thing, a line anyone could toss off without thinking, but coming from his mouth and with that look on me, it carried a different weight.

—Thank you —I said, leaning in just enough for the neckline to speak for me.

He didn’t miss a detail.

—And where are you going all by yourself? —he asked.

—For a little walk.

—Like that, without Carolina?

—She couldn’t come today.

We said goodbye, but as I walked away I could feel his gaze nailed to my back, sliding down to where the dress threatened to ride up again. I turned with a smile that was anything but innocent while I smoothed the fabric over my ass.

—Why are you staring so much? —I shot back at him.

He blushed, nervous.

—Nothing, nothing.

—Sure —I said, hands on my hips, and kept walking without looking back.

I knew he was going to follow me. I knew it, and I didn’t do a thing to stop him.

***

I got to the waterfall and sat for a moment on a warm rock. I looked to one side and then the other. Not a soul. I took off the dress and my thong and stood naked under the sun before getting into the water.

The river’s cold hit my skin all at once. My nipples hardened and a shiver ran through me head to toe, that mix of cold and heat you only feel when you step into water under a heavy sun. I floated for a while on my back, the sound of the waterfall behind me, feeling the current gently nudge me against the smooth stones at the bottom. I touched myself without really thinking about it, first my breasts, then lower down, letting the water and my own fingers do the rest until my legs trembled and I had to brace myself against a rock so I wouldn’t lose my balance.

And then I felt it again. That certainty at the nape of my neck that I was being watched.

I looked toward the bank calmly, almost expecting him. And there was Mateo, standing among the trees, looking at me with eyes that didn’t hide what he was thinking. For a moment I stayed still in the water, staring back. Then I smiled and started to get out.

He looked me over from top to bottom and let out a shy laugh, like a child caught doing something forbidden.

—Stop looking at me like that —I said, covering my breasts with one arm and my sex with the other hand, even though we both knew it was pure theater.

—It’s just that you’re so fucking hot —he murmured, not taking his eyes off me.

Those words did more for my ego than anything else. I lowered my arms slowly, put my hands on my hips, and let him see all of me.

—Why? Had you never seen a naked woman before? —I asked, challenging him.

—Yeah. But not one like you.

I stroked my breast with one hand while looking him in the eye.

—Do you want it?

I didn’t give him time to answer. I turned around and got back into the water, knowing exactly what was going to happen behind my back.

When I turned again, Mateo was already taking off his clothes. He pulled down his shorts and everything else without a trace of shame, and stepped into the water to come closer to me. It only took him three strokes.

***

The first thing he did was look at my breasts. He took one in his hand and squeezed a nipple harder than I expected. My skin went taut and sensitive under his fingers, and I let out a gasp that came out higher than I would have wanted.

—Not like that, not so hard —I protested, laughing, even though I was already soaked and burning hot inside.

He loosened his hand and pulled me closer. He started kissing my cheek, my neck, that spot just below the ear that undoes me, and I felt the heat I’d carried from the path concentrate between my legs. I found his mouth and pushed my tongue into it while I grabbed his sex under the water, stroking it slowly until I felt it firm in my hand. He was hard, hot, throbbing against my palm, and I liked feeling how he tensed every time I brushed the base with my thumb.

—Look at me —I said, pressing my forehead to his.

He obeyed, breathing hard.

I spread my legs a little, making clear what I wanted. He made me lift one knee, resting it on his hip, and settled himself between my thighs. First he brushed my entrance, already wet from the water and from me, and then he pushed in slowly, millimeter by millimeter, until he sank into me with a rough groan that vibrated against my mouth. I felt him open me, fill me from below all the way through, and the water around us pushed against us with that deceptive softness that made everything wilder.

—Like this... like this, fuck —he murmured, gripping my waist.

I clutched his shoulders, digging my nails in just a little, and started moving against him. There was no rush. I slid over his cock, letting him in and out with a slow rocking that quickly turned dirtier, deeper. Every thrust tore a wet sigh from me, every clash of hips raised little waves around our bodies. I bit his shoulder so I wouldn’t scream and he answered by squeezing my ass with both hands, making me ride him up and down until the two of us came almost at the same time, gasping, foreheads pressed together.

We got out of the river trembling a little from the contrast with the hot air. I had brought a towel and we dried off halfway, without much patience. The fabric scraped over my still-sensitive skin, and every brush of it reminded me of the weight of his body inside mine.

Mateo put one hand on the back of my neck to kiss me again and let the other slide down my back until it closed over my ass. I answered by reaching for him again with my hand, slowly, while he gently parted me and stroked me with two fingers, looking into my eyes. I smiled at him, feeling more sensitive than I had ever been.

—You like getting fucked, don’t you? —he said, his voice low and rough.

—Do whatever you want to me —I answered, not looking away.

We spread the towel on the grass.

I knelt in front of him and took him in my hand. His cock was thick, warm, and the skin brushed my palm with a delicious tension. I ran my tongue slowly over the tip, tasting him, then took him all the way into my mouth, swallowing him until I felt him touch my throat. He held my hair and murmured things I couldn’t quite make out, until he couldn’t take it anymore. I sucked him harder, alternating tongue and suction, swallowing saliva and letting his salty taste coat my mouth, while he gently pushed my head down when he was close.

—That’s it, Daniela... just like that —he growled, breathing in broken gasps.

Then I lay back on the towel and opened my legs, looking at him. I stroked myself, parting my wet lips with my fingers to show him how I was, and he let out a low sound at seeing me so open and shining. He got the message. He came down between my thighs and used his tongue with a patience I didn’t know he had, alternating between licking and wrapping me in his mouth until I was writhing on the fabric. He ate me slowly at first, burying his tongue in my cunt and moving the tip in circles that made my back arch; then he went straight for it, without any delicacy, burying his face between my legs and sucking me with hunger, as if he wanted to empty me completely.

—Don’t stop —I begged, my voice broken.

He didn’t stop. He held my hips hard, opened me wider, and kept licking me until my legs started trembling out of control. When I couldn’t take it anymore, he settled over me and entered again, this time hard, each thrust ripping a scream from me that was swallowed by the sound of water falling. My body was at the edge, hypersensitive, responding to everything. I felt him slide inside me again and again, pounding deep, while he clenched his teeth and whispered in my ear that I was so tight, that I felt better than any woman he’d ever touched.

***

When we got some breath back, I got on all fours, leaning on my hands and knees. Mateo held my waist and entered me slowly, opening me once more, then gradually picked up the pace until he made me bite the towel. He gave me soft slaps on the ass, one after another, and I felt my legs go weak, my whole body tense. The sound of his skin hitting mine mixed with my ragged breathing, with the moans that slipped out of me without permission.

—Like that, don’t move for me —he ordered, sinking in deeper.

I obeyed halfway, pushing my ass back to find him better, thrusting against him hungrily. Then he turned me around and put my legs over his shoulders, driving all the way in. I moved my pelvis to meet him, forward and back, squeezing him with each rocking motion until I felt him shudder all over against me. I clung to his arms, feeling the tension in his muscles and the sweat sliding down his chest.

I lay there on the towel, my legs half asleep and a tremor that wouldn’t leave me alone. I touched myself, still swollen and sensitive, parting my lips again with my fingers to rub where it felt best, while he kissed my shoulder and watched me with a mix of pride and exhaustion.

—You clamp down so damn good —he said, almost voiceless.

—And you’re not far behind —I answered, laughing softly.

We went into the water one last time to cool off. The sun had already started to set and painted the pool in a thick gold, and there, with the river up to our waists and him pressed against my back, we still found the strength for one more round. He held me by the hips and slid into me again slowly, letting me feel every inch while I leaned back against his chest and guided the rhythm with my hands on his thigh. We moved slowly, without hurry, letting exhaustion and pleasure mingle in every motion, letting the water lick our skin and cool the burn just a little. The whole afternoon slipped away like that, between the cold water and the warm towel, with neither of us wanting to be the first to leave.

***

I kept seeing Mateo during that summer. More than once I sneaked him into my grandmother’s house, where she slept so deeply she never found out a thing. He wasn’t the only one, I admit without blushing: back then I knew exactly what I liked and had no intention whatsoever of apologizing for going after it.

What began as a suspicion on the riverbank —the idea that someone was spying on me among the trees— ended up becoming one of those confessions I still keep with a smile. I don’t regret it. That hot summer, far from the city, taught me that sometimes the most intense desire is born precisely from knowing you’re being watched.