The Neighbor Who Discovered My Secret Creekside Spot

My name is Esteban, I’m fifty-four years old, and I live alone for almost the whole day in a house at the end of a dirt road on the outskirts of Mendoza. I’ve been working part-time for a couple of years now, so the afternoons are completely mine. My wife comes back after eight, and my kids have long since built their own lives far from here.

Behind the property, hidden among cane fields and brambles, there’s a branch of the creek that no one else seems to know about. The water comes down clean from the mountain and forms a pool the size of a small swimming pool. I found it by chance while chasing a dog, and since then I made it mine. At first I bathed there in a swimsuit. Then, when I realized no neighbor ever came near that corner, I started going in naked.

I can’t fully explain it. The idea of being completely exposed in an open place, knowing no one would show up, turned me on in a way the routine of my house hadn’t managed for years. My cock would get hard on its own, as soon as I dropped my clothes on a rock, and I’d grab it right there, out in the open, watching the water run. It was my secret, and at that age secrets are worth more than gold.

***

One January afternoon, from the window of my study, I saw a brief flash in the house next door. It took me a while to understand what it was. Then I saw it again: sunlight reflecting off a pair of binoculars. And behind them, a girl.

It was Camila, my neighbor’s oldest daughter. She was twenty-two. Her father was one of those rigid men who lock the house with double bolts and measure the minutes of every permission. He had her studying online, with no outings, no known boyfriends, nothing he hadn’t approved first. We saw her rarely, always on her mother’s arm, always with her eyes down.

And now that lowered gaze was fixed on my window through a pair of binoculars, while I took my hand to my pants without having entirely decided to do it.

I could have closed the curtain. I didn’t. I did the exact opposite: I pulled it all the way open, let the light wash over me completely, and slid my pants down to my knees. My cock was already throbbing hard, and I showed it without shame, taking it in my right hand and moving it slowly, looking her in the eyes through the glass. The binoculars trembled, but they didn’t lower. I spat into my palm and jerked myself faster, squeezing the purple head between my fingers, knowing she could see every drop that glistened at the tip. I came right there against the window, and I saw her swallow before disappearing behind the shutter. My pulse hammered in my temples. If she opened her mouth to her father, my life would go up in flames in a single afternoon. And that certainty, far from stopping me, was what finally pushed me over the edge.

***

A week later I ran into her at the creek. I was in my underwear, with a towel over my shoulder, and she appeared through the brush with a branch in her hand, calling softly for a cat.

—Easy —I told her, not moving—. Nobody comes here. It’s a place only I know.

She stood still, sizing me up. She didn’t run. Her eyes went over my body with a curiosity she didn’t bother to hide, and they lingered for a second too long on the bulge showing under my wet fabric. From that gesture I understood that the girl locked up at home knew a lot more than her father thought.

—Tomás got away from me —she said at last—. The cat. He came this way.

I helped her look for him. We walked along the bank parting branches, and the little bastard ended up appearing on his own, belly up on a warm rock. We sat in the shade. We talked about anything: the heat, the boredom of her house, how quiet that corner was. Before leaving, I told her the creek was always there, in case she ever wanted to cool off.

—My dad would kill me if he found out —she murmured.

But she said it smiling, and in her eyes there was anything but fear.

***

She started coming in secret, always at the time when her father slept his afternoon nap. At first she only dipped her feet in the pool, sitting on the edge with her knees pulled tight to her chest. Later she worked up the nerve to get in with a swimsuit I’d left for her myself, folded on a rock, without saying a word. A tiny swimsuit, barely two triangles of fabric, which she accepted without protest. When she came out of the water, the fabric clung to her pussy and the shape of her lips showed through, and my cock would get hard inside my shorts without me being able to hide it.

The tension between us became its own language. I taught her to float on her back, and my hands stayed longer than necessary at her waist, slipping down to the base of her ass. When I corrected her stroke, her small tits brushed mine underwater and her nipples hardened against the fabric. She pretended not to notice my dick pressing into her thigh every time I held her, but her cheeks flushed and she clamped her thighs together, and I knew how to read those signs better than any words.

—You’re trembling —I told her one afternoon.

—It’s the water —she answered.

The water was warm. We both knew it.

***

One afternoon I arrived before her and fell asleep in the sun with nothing on, convinced she wouldn’t come that day. I woke up with her shadow over me. She was standing there, looking at me, lips parted, eyes fixed on my cock, which had gone hard in my sleep and was resting against my belly button.

—Why is it like that? —she asked softly, without looking away.

—Because I like you, Camila —I told her plainly—. When a man desires a woman, his cock gets hard before his mouth says anything. And mine gets hard every time I see you.

She knelt beside me, hypnotized, and I let her look all she wanted. I took her hand and brought it there slowly, without haste, giving her time to stop. She didn’t stop. I closed her fingers around my cock and showed her the rhythm, up and down, pulling the skin back so the head would stay bare and shining. A clear thread ran from the tip and she watched it as if spellbound.

—Try it with your tongue —I whispered—. Nobody can see us. Just you and me.

She lowered herself slowly and licked the tip like someone tasting something forbidden. Then she opened her mouth and took half my cock inside, awkwardly, pressing me by accident with her teeth, and I didn’t care at all. I grabbed her hair, guided her with patience, taught her to work her tongue underneath while she went up and down. She learned quickly. Her mouth filled with saliva and she spat it onto my cock so it would slide better, and she jerked me with her hand what wouldn’t fit. The feeling of being like that, outdoors, with the neighbor’s daughter swallowing my cock, had me on the edge in two minutes.

—I’m going to cum —I warned her, and she didn’t take her mouth off. I emptied my throat with three long pulls, and I saw her swallow it all with her eyes closed, coughing a little at the end, without letting go of my cock with her hand. When she straightened up, a thread of semen was hanging from her lip, and she wiped it away with a finger while staring at me fixedly.

That afternoon nothing much else happened. But when she left, we both knew we had crossed a line with no way back.

***

The next time it was her who took off the top of her swimsuit, with her back to me, trembling, before turning around. Her pale skin was speckled with freckles up to her shoulders, and she had a slim body that shyness couldn’t hide. Her tits were small, firm, with pink nipples hardened by the cold water. I kissed her slowly, first the mouth, then the neck, then I sucked one nipple and then the other, nibbling them until she started moaning.

—I don’t know what you do to me —she said, her voice breaking.

I laid her back on the towel in the shade and pulled down the little bottom of her swimsuit with my teeth. Her pussy was almost bare, just a blond shadow, and already shining wet. I spread her thighs with my hands and ran my whole tongue from below up to her clit. She jumped and tried to close her legs, but I stopped her. I kept them open and stayed there, eating her slowly, circling her clit with the tip of my tongue, sliding a finger in, then two, looking for that spot inside that would make her lose her mind. When I found it, she arched her back so hard she nearly rolled off the towel, and she bit her own hand so she wouldn’t scream. She came in bursts over my face, soaking my beard, trembling head to toe for several seconds. It was the first time she had come with someone, and afterward she looked at me as if I had taught her a new language.

***

I showed her some videos on the tablet, scenes of a grown man with a young woman, and she watched them with a mix of shame and hunger. Then she wanted to imitate what she’d seen. She knelt between my legs and sucked my cock with both hands, asking me the whole time if she was doing it right. I told her yes. I taught her to suck my balls while she jerked me, to lick me from the base to the tip, to press my cock against her cheek and stick out her tongue so I could come on it whenever I wanted. She learned that she liked swallowing me. She learned that she liked it when I pulled her hair. She learned to look me in the eyes with a mouth full, and that look is burned into me.

Every encounter was one more rung on the ladder. I taught her to ride me on the flat rock, to move on top with her hand on my chest, finding the angle herself. I taught her to get on all fours on the towel while I touched her from behind, teasing her tight little asshole with a wet finger until she stopped clenching and started pushing back toward me. And the risk never let up: sometimes we’d hear her father’s voice calling her from the neighboring garden, and we had to stay motionless, holding our breath among the reeds, her with my cock still in her mouth, me gripping her tits from behind, until the voice faded. Those seconds of panic left both of us hotter than any caress.

***

The day I really fucked her, her parents had gone away to a two-day congress. Camila came to the creek without a swimsuit, wrapped only in a towel that she let fall on the bank. We went into the water and then came back out into the shade, and that time there was nothing to stop anything.

I kissed her for a long time, sucked her tits until they were red, ate her pussy again until she came all over my mouth. I laid her on her back, opened her legs, and lined my cock up at her entrance. She was so wet the head slid in by itself. I pushed slowly, watching her face, stopping every time she squeezed her eyes shut. It hurt at first; I saw it, I felt it. I worked my cock inside her little by little, pulling almost all the way out and going back in a little deeper, until I had all of it in and felt it touch bottom. Then something changed, and she started moving for me, lifting her hips, digging her nails into my back, repeating my name in a broken whisper.

—Don’t stop —she begged—. Fuck me hard, please, don’t stop.

I fucked her the way she asked. I held her by the hips and drove my cock in to the hilt with every thrust, until the sound of my balls slapping against her ass blended with the water. I turned her over and put her on all fours on the towel, and that was even better: I could see her ass raised, her pussy opening around my cock every time I pulled out, her back arching. I spat on the crease of her ass and ran my thumb over the tight hole while I kept fucking her, and she let out a low cry and came again, trembling all over, squeezing my cock inside her like a wet fist.

I pulled out just in time, turned her over again, and came over her tits and neck, long hot spurts that ran all the way to her mouth. She stuck out her tongue and asked for the rest, and I gave it to her, dragging the tip across her lips until the last drop hung there. We both finished, exhausted, on the towel, with the sound of the water in the background and our hearts racing. She suddenly laughed, a nervous, happy laugh, ran a finger over her neck and sucked it, and curled up against my chest as if that lost corner were the only safe place in the world.

***

For almost two years the creek was ours. Stolen afternoons from her father’s nap, naked baths, rushed encounters where the mere fact that someone might show up multiplied everything. She learned to come five different ways, to swallow me without coughing, to ask for my cock from behind when the whim took her. With every time she grew bolder, with every time she grew less afraid, and I learned that the quiet girl with the lowered gaze was, in reality, the bravest person I had ever met.

It ended when her father, fed up with not being able to control her, decided to send her to study in another province, far from the house, far from the dirt road, far from me. We didn’t say goodbye the way we would have wanted. Just a hurriedly deleted message and one last swim where I fucked her against a rock without knowing it was the last time.

I still go down to the creek some afternoons. The water is still clean, the pool is still warm, and no one else knows the place. I sit on the same rock where I first saw her appear, with her branch and her lost cat, I pull down my pants and jerk off slowly thinking about her freckles, her mouth full, her ass lifted over the towel, and the impossible thrill of those years when the forbidden had a neighbor’s name.