The Trip on Which My Friend and I Crossed the Line

I went a long time without telling this, and not because I was ashamed, but because I had tucked it away in a drawer of memory I almost never open. It was while talking with my friend Romina a few weeks ago, both of us with one drink too many, that we went back to that trip and realized that everything had started much earlier than we thought. There, that weekend, we planted something between us that we could never uproot afterward.

It happened about a year and a half ago. We had spent months planning to sneak away the four of us: Romina and her husband Diego, Andrés and me. After a thousand messages and calendars that never lined up, we finally managed to get three days off. We decided to drive across the mountains to the little town where Diego’s family had grown up, a tiny place that smelled of wet earth and firewood.

The drive there was calm, with music and bad jokes, the kind only people who know each other too well can understand. When we arrived, the heat was so thick the first thing on everyone’s mind was the river. A stretch of clear water ran between the rocks a few minutes from the village, and we headed there almost without even unpacking.

We changed inside the car. First the men, who for that kind of thing take as long as a yawn. Then it was our turn. Romina didn’t even know where to begin taking off her clothes; she had always been more reserved than I was, though with me over the years she had loosened up quite a bit.

“It’s fine, we’re the two women,” I told her, and started taking my clothes off without thinking too much about it.

It was the first time she had seen me completely, because to put on a bathing suit there’s no choice but to take off every last piece. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye so as not to make her uncomfortable, and found her with her mouth slightly open, staring at me without even trying to hide it. Her eyes fixed first on my tits, on how my nipples were hardening from the air conditioning, and then slowly dropped to my shaved cunt, swallowing hard. For years we had played in front of everyone at being girlfriends, hugging each other as a joke, giving each other exaggerated affection to laugh at the others’ faces. But there are games people keep repeating because, deep down, they want them to stop being a game.

When I finished arranging my bathing suit, I turned to her.

“What? Had you never seen a naked woman before?” I asked, amused.

“Well, no. Who would I see, if all I have is Diego and you?” she answered, still a little flustered.

“Well, there you go. One less thing on your to-do list,” I joked.

“Yeah, sure…” she murmured, biting her lip.

“Come on, stop getting like that. We trust each other, right?”

“Yes, you already know that.”

She started undressing, trying to cover herself, quick about it, while I put my clothes away. And though she thought I couldn’t see her, I watched her in the reflection of the window glass. With clothes on, you could already tell she had the kind of body that stops a conversation; without them, she was something else. She had big, round tits, with dark, erect nipples, and a perky ass that moved on its own when she bent down to pick up her panties. Between her legs, a short, neat patch of hair barely hid a cunt with thick lips that showed through when she pressed her thighs together. I don’t know where I found the self-control not to say anything at that moment, because my mouth watered.

***

We went down to the river and the four of us went in at once. The cold water was a brutal relief against the stifling heat. We stayed there nearly four hours, between cold beers, bags of chips, and conversations that got hotter as the cans emptied out.

I could tell the guys were looking at us more than usual. It was the first time they had seen the two of us with so little clothes on and so close together, and our old girlfriends game stirred up something neither of them knew how to hide. At some point, laughing, the four of us made a half-serious pact: whatever happened on that trip stayed on that trip. Nobody would tell afterward. None of us imagined how much we were going to need that promise.

The first kiss between Romina and me came that very afternoon. We were tipsy enough that shame had already gone downstream. It was them who started teasing us, saying we were all talk, that we’d never dare do anything real. And you never challenge Romina, because she always follows through. As for me, to be honest, I wasn’t very eager to back down either.

We stood up. The water came a little above our knees, so we were fully visible, exposed, perfect for the show they were expecting. But I didn’t give them what they wanted right away.

First we played. We moved our mouths closer and pulled away, glancing sideways at the dopey faces they made while waiting. Romina is shorter than I am, so when she hugged me, her hands landed right at my hips, and she held on like she was afraid I’d leave. I wrapped one arm around her and with the other hand slowly slid up from her side, brushing her ribs, until I reached her mouth and ran a finger across her lips.

When I felt that she was no longer thinking about the audience, that she was fully with me, I kissed her. Slowly, with tiny kisses that gradually opened up, barely biting her lower lip, holding her by the hair at the nape of her neck. I slipped my tongue in without warning and she took it with a little moan only I heard, sucking on it as if she’d been waiting for that moment for years. I tightened my grip on the back of her neck, made her tilt her head the way I liked, and felt her nipples harden against mine through the wet fabric of the bathing suit. It was one of the hottest things I’ve ever felt: having her like that, surrendered, while she didn’t let go of my hips and her fingers slipped slowly under the edge of my panties, barely scratching the curve of my ass.

I didn’t expect a simple kiss to leave me trembling like that.

I kept it to myself, but at that moment I would have made her mine right there, in front of everyone, not caring about a thing. I would have laid her down on the rocks, yanked her bathing suit down in one pull, and eaten her pussy until she screamed with the river running between her legs. But some desires are better when they’re made to wait. We left it there, separated slowly, and when we turned around, we found the two of them looking like they couldn’t believe what they’d just seen. Their bathing suits had a bulge there was no way to hide. We both laughed, and before sitting back down I gave Romina’s ass a playful slap, just to have the last word.

***

The guys were as turned on as I was; that was obvious. So much so that a little later Romina and Diego announced they were going to the car “for more beers.” They took their sweet time, and they didn’t come back with many cans, that’s for sure.

Andrés and I were left alone, stretched out in the sun on the smooth stones by the riverbank. He asked me, with that clumsy male curiosity, whether I liked women, whether I had ever been with one. I told him the truth: no, but that I wouldn’t refuse to try it someday. And while we talked, I saw the hard shape of his cock under his bathing suit, a long, thick bulge pushing the fabric out and pressing the tip tight against the elastic.

“Did you like what you saw?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“What man wouldn’t like seeing two women like that?” he answered, nervous, not taking his hand off his groin.

I was as worked up as he was. The kiss had left me burning, my cunt swollen and throbbing, and the thought that Romina and Diego were probably fucking in the car at that very moment only made it worse.

“What if we take care of that urge?” I said.

I didn’t even give him time to answer. I knelt in the sand beside him and yanked his bathing suit down to his knees. His cock sprang up, hard, the tip purple and a drop of fluid already gleaming on the head. I grabbed it at the base with one hand and ran my tongue from his balls to the tip, slowly, tasting him. He let himself fall back, propped on his elbows, with a rough groan. I took his cock all the way into my mouth and drove it down my throat until I choked, letting threads of saliva slip from the corner of my lips. Giving pleasure is something that turns me on almost more than receiving it, and I devoted myself to sucking him as if there were no tomorrow.

With one hand I braced myself on the warm sand; with the other I slipped two fingers under my bathing suit and started touching my cunt, checking how wet I was, and not because of the river. I licked the tip with my lips closed, up and down, pulling it out with a pop and smacking it against my tongue before swallowing it again. I stroked his balls with my other hand, tugging gently, while I took him into my mouth at the rhythm I wanted. Andrés grabbed my hair and set the pace himself, fucking my throat with short thrusts that brought tears to my eyes.

“I’m about to come,” he gasped, pulling my hair back.

“In my mouth,” I ordered him, and swallowed him to the hilt again.

Andrés barely lasted two more thrusts before he came. He filled my mouth with hot semen, thick spurts running over my lips and down onto my chest. I swallowed it all, never letting go of his cock, sucking him to the last drop while he shook with both hands on my neck. When he was done, I pressed myself against him for a moment, still breathing hard and tasting his cum on my tongue.

I lay back on the sand, pulled my bathing suit down to my thighs, and spread my legs. I stuck my fingers back in, this time three, pushing them deep into my soaked cunt, while with my thumb I ground my clit in fast circles. Andrés leaned over me and caught one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard, biting it just a little, while with his other hand he squeezed my free tit. I grabbed his head and pressed it against my chest, moving my hips against my own fingers, fucking myself with both hands. I could feel my cunt contracting around my fingers, my clit throbbing on the verge of exploding.

I didn’t need much more. The orgasm hit me all at once, so hard my back arched off the sand and a long moan escaped me that he had to silence with his hand so nobody would hear us from the water. My legs shook for a good while, my fingers still inside, feeling how my cunt kept clenching in spasms around them.

Afterward we went back into the river, rinsed off the sand and the cum, and put our faces back on as if nothing had happened there. Romina and Diego showed up shortly after, just as suspiciously disheveled as we were, she with damp hair stuck to her neck and a red mark on her jaw she didn’t bother hiding. We stayed a while longer and went to eat without even changing; with that heat, we were dry in a blink.

***

We stayed in the town’s only hotel, the four of us in one double room. The guys went straight into the pool, while Romina and I lay down for a while to rest. I wasn’t going to miss the chance.

“They went off to get theirs in the car, right?” I said, bluntly.

“Yeah,” she laughed. “Diego got hard as hell after the kiss we shared. He nailed me standing up against the door, without even taking my bathing suit all the way off. He just pulled it aside and fucked me right there.”

“I can imagine. Andrés was the same.”

“Don’t tell me you did too…” she asked, widening her eyes.

“I sucked him until he came in my mouth while I was fingering my cunt,” I replied, shrugging. “Then he made me come by biting my tits.”

“You’re incorrigible, honestly,” she said, half scandalized and half dying of laughter, but her cheeks had gone red and she couldn’t take her eyes off me.

“A little vitamin never hurt anyone,” I answered, and we both laughed like two kids.

What neither of us said out loud that afternoon, lying side by side on that bed, was the obvious thing: that the kiss in the river had not been for them. That we had enjoyed it for ourselves, and that as soon as we were alone, with no audience or challenges or beers between us, we were going to finish what that cold water had started. That I was dying to put my tongue between those thick lips I’d seen in the car, and that she was dying to let me.

But that part of the story came the next day, and I’d rather tell it slowly, because it deserves its own account. For now I’ll stay with this: with the sight of Romina naked in the reflection of the car window, with her hand holding my hip in the river while her fingers slipped under my panties, with the taste of Andrés’s cum on my tongue, and with the certainty that some games, when they finally break, can no longer be faked.