Valentina Whispered That She Wanted to See Me on My Knees

My name is Nicolás. I’m thirty-three years old, I work tech support for an insurance company, and until recently I thought I knew myself pretty well. I knew what I liked in bed, what I didn’t, and where my limits were. I was wrong about all three. And I don’t regret a single one of those mistakes.

The person responsible is Valentina.

I met her at the opening of a photography exhibition on a Thursday in October. I’d gone along with a friend who disappeared in the first twenty minutes into the crowd and the free wine. I was left alone beside a black-and-white photograph of an empty harbor, with my glass half empty and not much interest in art, when I noticed someone coming to stand next to me.

She was petite, with brown hair tied up any old way and gray eyes that had the habit of looking at you as if they already knew something about you before you opened your mouth. She was wearing a simple black dress. She wasn’t trying to draw attention. That was why she drew all of it.

—Do you like it? —she asked, nodding toward the photo.

—I don’t know much about photography —I admitted.

She smiled to one side.

—Neither do I. But that harbor makes me sad in a way I like. Do you have anything that makes you sad that way?

It was a strange question for two strangers with wine in hand. But something in her direct voice, with no calculated flirtation, made me answer honestly. We talked for more than an hour. I asked what she did, and she told me she designed typefaces for brands. I told her about my job, and she listened without condescension. When she ran out of wine, I offered her mine. When the gallery started emptying out, neither of us moved.

That night I ended up at her apartment.

***

Valentina lived on the fourth floor in a quiet neighborhood, with walls lined with shelves and a big bed in the middle of the bedroom. There wasn’t much talking once we were inside. She kissed me with the same frankness with which she spoke: no detours, slipping her hot tongue into my mouth while her hands were already unbuttoning my shirt with an almost impatient speed. She pushed me onto the bed, yanked my belt free with one tug, and pulled down my trousers and boxer briefs in one motion. My cock sprang hard against my belly and she looked at it for a second, bit her lip, and let out a low, satisfied laugh.

—Look at you, already like that —she murmured—. You’ve been hard for half an hour.

She wrapped her hand around it, firm, and started stroking me slowly while straddling my thighs. Then she leaned down and licked me from base to tip, with her tongue flat and hot, gathering the drop of precum that had escaped me. She closed her eyes for a moment, as if she liked the taste, and opened her mouth.

—I’d spent the whole night thinking about sucking you off.

She took me all the way in with one movement. I felt her throat tighten around my glans and let out a moan that sounded like someone else’s. She started sucking me off at a slow rhythm at first, running her tongue under the frenulum every time she came back up, leaving my cock shiny with saliva. Then she sped up, sinking down until the mouth sounds turned wet and obscene, one hand squeezing my balls, the other planted on my thigh. She kept glancing at me out of the corner of her eye the whole time, checking how far she was taking me, enjoying seeing me come undone under her.

When she let out a sound of approval, almost a growl, with her mouth still full, I understood that this woman had no shame at all and that I was fucked.

I lifted her dress up over her hips and ripped the elastic of her panties with a tug. I wanted to see her. I found her pussy already soaked, the lips swollen and open, the clit peeking out hard between the trimmed hair. I shoved two fingers in at once and felt her tighten around them, hot, slick, soaked through. I started fingering her while she kept my cock in her mouth, and when I added a third finger and brushed a soft spot on the roof of her cunt I heard her moan around my glans, the vibration almost making me come right there.

She let go of my cock with a wet sound, stood up, and sat on my face before I could react. She covered my mouth with her sex, open and burning, and grabbed the headboard with both hands.

—Eat me —she ordered—. Slowly at first.

I licked her from top to bottom, gathering everything she had to give me, burying my tongue between her lips while she ground herself slowly against my mouth. I sucked her swollen clit, trapped it between my lips and worked it with the tip of my tongue, without stopping, until I felt her trembling. She clamped my head between her thighs with enough force to almost leave me breathless and started moving over my face, riding my mouth shamelessly.

—Like that, fuck, like that —she panted—. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.

I dug my hands into her ass, opening her up, and lowered my tongue to her entrance, pushing it in as far as I could. She came over my mouth with a hoarse cry, crushing my head, trembling all over, letting out a hot stream of fluid that bathed my chin. She didn’t let me breathe until she had finished coming completely.

When she finally climbed off, she collapsed beside me and laughed, exhausted, her face flushed.

—Fuck. You have a privileged mouth.

What happened that night was simply the best thing I’d experienced in years. Not because of technique. Because of the way she did it: without pretending, without acting, telling me exactly what she wanted and clearly asking me for what she needed. That combination of honesty and desire was more erotic than any learned move.

When she finally caught her breath, she turned onto her stomach without me asking, lifted her ass, and looked back over her shoulder.

—Now fuck me. However you want. But fuck me hard.

I got behind her, spread her lips apart with two fingers, and slid into her slowly, feeling how the first thrust pulled a long, hot moan from her, free of any theater. I went in centimeter by centimeter, one hand on her hip to steady her, until I was buried all the way in. Her pussy squeezed me like a hungry mouth and made me see stars. I stayed still for a second, breathing, feeling her contract around my cock, and then I started moving, first short, then deeper, hearing the wet, obscene sound of our bodies colliding.

—Harder —she asked—. Deeper. Break me.

I grabbed her tied-up hair and pulled, not too much, just enough to arch her back. I started fucking her properly, driving all the way in with each thrust, watching my cock come out soaked and disappear inside her again. Her small tits shook beneath the dress still half off, and she dug her fingers into the sheets and asked for more, harder, deeper, her voice growing more and more broken.

—You’re filling me up completely —she gasped—. Don’t stop, I’m going to come again.

I slapped her ass and grabbed her hips with both hands. I fucked her with an urgency that had nothing elegant about it and everything necessary, until I felt her squeezing around my cock in repeated spasms, moaning into the mattress. When she came, she dragged me with her. I pulled out just in time, gave my cock a couple of tugs, and unloaded the whole load on her lower back and ass, a thick stream that ran down the side of her hip. She laughed through her panting, still trembling, and slid two fingers through the trail before sucking them clean.

Two weeks later, I was sleeping more nights in her apartment than in mine.

***

Valentina was insatiable in a way that never became exhausting. She’d wake me at three in the morning with her hand already closed around my cock, stroking me slowly under the sheets until I got hard again while she bit my neck and whispered in my ear what she was going to do to me. She’d send me messages at work that I read in the bathroom with my heart racing and my cock starting to swell in my pants. I’m sitting at my desk with my hand inside my panties thinking about the way you fucked me last night. I can’t get the sound you made when you came in my mouth out of my head. When you get here I want to suck your cock until you cry.

We cooked together and ended up on the kitchen counter, with her sitting on the edge, legs spread wide, my tongue buried between her folds while hot oil still sizzled a few feet away. I ate her pussy hungrily, shoved two fingers into her to the knuckles, and heard her moan my name in a broken voice, gripping the marble edge while she came and soaked my chin.

We’d start a movie and pause it twenty minutes in, because by then she’d already slipped her hand under my skirt and was asking me, mouth against my ear, to put her on her knees on the sofa and fuck her from behind. We’d do it that way, watching the blurry reflection in the switched-off television, with her gripping the backrest and me standing behind her, fucking her, watching her ass shake against my pelvis every time I drove into her all the way.

Sex with her was urgent, honest, and completely addictive.

What attracted me wasn’t just desire. It was the way she inhabited it. Valentina was never embarrassed, never hesitant, never fake. If she liked something, she said so. If she wanted something, she asked for it. If she didn’t like something, she dropped it without drama. That honesty was strange and refreshing and made me as horny as the sex itself.

One weekday night, naked on the sofa after we’d finished a second time, with a movie on the television neither of us was watching, Valentina rested her head on my chest and said in the calm voice of someone mentioning something unimportant:

—There’s something I want to tell you.

I turned down the volume.

—When I’m alone, sometimes I watch gay porn. It turns me on way more than anything else. —She looked up to read my face—. Don’t look at me like that.

I wasn’t looking at her in any particular way.

—And? —I said, because I sensed there was more.

She smiled slowly.

—And sometimes I imagine it’s you. That you’re on your knees in front of another man. That you open your mouth and really suck him off. That you’ve got a cock in your throat that isn’t yours and you make yourself come just from the heat of it. —She looked at me steadily—. It turns me on so much, Nicolás. So much that I come just thinking about that. I want to show you things you haven’t tried yet.

I fell silent. My body reacted before my mind did. She noticed and moved closer, sliding a hand down to my crotch and squeezing my cock, already half hard again, through the fabric of my boxers.

—I see —she said softly, smiling—. Your cock is more interested in the idea than you expected, isn’t it?

I didn’t answer. There was no need.

***

It all started slowly, as everything worth having did with Valentina.

The first few weeks were about gradual exploration. While we were fucking, she’d introduce small changes: a finger wet with saliva sliding between my ass cheeks and finding my entrance, pressing just a little, just enough to make my whole body tense and let out a moan I didn’t recognize as mine. Words whispered in my ear describing specific images while I jerked off or she rode me. Direct questions about what I was feeling and where I wanted it to stay.

—Do you like this finger inside? —she’d ask, her voice pressed against my ear, straddling me, her pussy swallowing my cock and her index finger working my ass at the same time—. Look at your cock. It’s harder than ever. Don’t tell me you don’t like it.

I didn’t tell her I didn’t.

Sometimes she made me lie still face down on the bed, ass lifted and face pressed into the pillow, while she coated her fingers with lube patiently. She’d run them over me first, in circles, without going in, until the muscle began to relax on its own. Then she’d slip just the tip of her index finger inside, slowly, letting me feel every millimeter, and I’d clutch the pillow with both hands and make noises I hadn’t known I could make.

—That’s it —she’d whisper—. Breathe. Let it in.

Other times she made me watch while she took my cock into her mouth and swallowed it to the base, with two of her fingers sliding between my ass cheeks at the same time, pressing without going in yet. She sucked me slowly, letting me watch my glans appear and disappear between her lips, until she made me cry from pleasure and beg her to stop before I came.

—Do you feel that? —she’d ask softly, one finger moving in circles inside me while I gripped the pillow with both hands—. Your whole body responds to this. I want you to get used to it. I want you to start needing it.

Without making any conscious decision, I started needing it.

One night I found a box on the bed. Inside was a black leather harness, a dildo of a reasonable size, a large bottle of lubricant, and a handwritten note: If you want me to stop, tell me. If you don’t say anything, we keep going.

I lay down on my stomach without saying anything.

Valentina took her time. She came into the room already wearing the harness, the dildo hanging between her legs, and stood there for a second looking at me on the bed, naked, waiting. Then she climbed in behind me, kissed the back of my neck, slid her hand down my back to my tailbone, and spread my ass cheeks apart with both hands.

—You’re gorgeous like this —she murmured—. Look at how everything’s trembling.

She poured cold lube between my ass cheeks and spread it with two fingers, massaging me, coating me well on the outside. She opened me with one finger first, sliding it all the way in, then two, rotating them inside me until the muscle began to give. I moaned into the pillow, with my cock trapped and flattened against the mattress, rock hard, leaving a wet stain on the sheet.

—More —slipped out of me.

—I know —she said, and gave a soft laugh—. I know, sweetheart.

She pushed in three fingers. She added more lube, pursed her mouth slightly as she saw me shudder when she found an internal spot that made my whole body arch, and kept going with fierce calm, opening me little by little until the initial burn turned into a deep, dense, delicious pressure. When she was satisfied, she pulled her fingers out, positioned herself, and pressed the head of the dildo against my entrance. I felt it there, thick, slick with lube, waiting.

It took her almost half an hour to get all the way in. She did it centimeter by centimeter, stopping whenever I tensed up, waiting, speaking softly into my ear.

—Take a deep breath. Relax. That’s it. It’s almost all the way in.

When she finally entered completely, I was speechless for several enormous seconds: a full, hot pressure that ran through my body from top to bottom and left me with my mouth open against the pillow.

—Good? —she whispered, completely still, her pelvis pressed to my ass.

—Yes —I answered, my voice rougher than I expected—. Move.

What came after wasn’t comparable to anything before. She started slowly, with short thrusts, pulling out barely halfway and driving back in to the hilt. I moaned into the pillow, unable and unwilling to stop it. Every time she went in all the way, a hot current ran up my spine and down to my cock. She grabbed my hips and lifted my ass a little for a better angle, and from there she started fucking me with cruel patience, pulling it out and pushing it back in, each stroke brushing exactly where it lit me up most.

—Look at you —she panted—. You’re opening yourself up for me completely. You love this, don’t you?

—Yes —I moaned.

—Say it.

—I love it —I said, and my voice cracked.

She slid a hand under me, grabbed my leaking cock, and started jerking me off to the rhythm of her thrusts. When she sped up, I lost every last shred of control. I could feel the whole dildo filling me from the inside while her hand worked my cock from the outside, both things at once, and I started pushing my ass back against her, asking for more without words.

—That’s it —she said, and in that one phrase there was so much satisfaction that I got even harder.

I came into her hand before I could warn her. A long, spasming orgasm that shook me all over, staining her fingers and the mattress, while she kept pushing inside me for a few more seconds, prolonging my climax until I had to ask her to stop.

When we were done, with my cum on the sheets and her long panting dying against my back, we stayed silent, wrapped around each other, for a good while. She eased out of me slowly, leaving me with that strange, new sensation of emptiness, and lay down beside me still wearing the harness.

—What are you thinking? —she asked after a while.

—That I want to do it again —I said.

She gave a low laugh, that sound of hers that was half complicity and half satisfaction.

—I know, sweetheart. I know.

***

Three weeks later, while we were having dinner, Valentina told me about Sebastián.

She said it casually, with the naturalness of someone mentioning a logistical detail.

—He’s a friend from many years ago. Discreet, trustworthy. I told him about you, about what we’ve been exploring together. He wants to meet you.

I felt my stomach tighten. It wasn’t exactly fear. It was more like standing at the edge of a diving board knowing you’ve already decided to jump, but you still haven’t done it yet.

—What do you want to happen? —I asked.

—I want to watch you —she said simply, directly—. I want to be there when you really discover it. Not with silicone. With a man who breathes, who reacts, who gets hard because you’re sucking him off. I want to see you open your mouth to take a real cock, Nicolás. I’ve been imagining it for months.

I kept eating. After a moment I said:

—When?

She smiled in the way I knew too well by then.

***

Sebastián arrived on a Saturday night. He was a man in his forties, tall, with very short dark hair and a calm way of moving that conveyed confidence without any apparent effort. He wore a navy jacket. He didn’t seem nervous at all.

I was nervous.

Valentina introduced them, offered wine, and talked about unimportant things for ten minutes. It was her way of lowering the temperature; I learned that later. She had the gift of understanding what rhythm each moment needed without anyone having to tell her.

When I got on my knees, it was because I wanted to. No one ordered me. Valentina was sitting in the armchair with her legs crossed, watching me. Her expression mixed desire and pride in a way I found more erotic than anything else in the room.

Sebastián stood in front of me and waited.

—You set the pace —he said.

That helped more than I’d expected.

I pulled down his zipper with fingers that were shaking a little, opened his pants, and tugged his boxer briefs down. His cock came out heavy, half hard, thicker than mine and with a thick glans, already glistening a little at the tip. I took it in my hand and felt the weight, the heat, the soft skin moving over the hardness beneath. The smell was different from mine. The texture, too. Everything was different and completely real.

—Slowly —Sebastián murmured—. No hurry.

I lowered my head. I first ran my tongue along the whole base, rising slowly, tracing it from bottom to top as if studying it. I reached the glans, kissed it, licked it in circles, gathered the drop forming at the little opening, and tasted the salty, dense flavor of another man in my mouth. My own cock jerked inside my pants with such violence that it surprised me.

I opened my mouth and took him in.

I started with half, letting the head rest against my palate, getting used to the size, to the weight of having someone else’s cock in my mouth. Then I went deeper, slowly, until I felt it brush the back of my throat. I pulled back, breathed through my nose, and went down again. I felt it harden more between my lips, fill out, turn to stone inside my mouth.

My body responded with a clarity that left no room for interpretation: this was something I wanted. I started clumsily, my heart pounding in my chest, and found the rhythm after a moment. Once I found it, I didn’t think about anything else. I started sucking him off properly, one hand wrapping the base and my mouth working what my hand couldn’t cover, up and down, letting saliva drip over his balls.

Valentina didn’t speak during the first few minutes. She just watched, elbows on her knees and back leaning forward, completely focused. One hand was tucked under her skirt. Then, from the armchair, in a very low voice:

—You’re beautiful, Nicolás. Exactly like that. Look at your mouth full. It’s exactly what I’ve been imagining for months.

The words went through me from top to bottom. I sped up without meaning to, sucking harder, letting him go deeper, choking myself a little on purpose because the sound I made in my throat was the sound she wanted to hear.

Sebastián let out a low moan, very controlled, and put a hand on the back of my neck. Not to direct me, but to accompany me. That gesture was what made the difference between a fantasy and something real: the calm recognition of someone who knows what’s happening. I took it in and kept going, gradually increasing the pace, sucking with more hunger, feeling his breathing break above my head.

—Fuck —he murmured—. You do it really well for a first time.

I pulled his cock out for a second, panting, saliva hanging from my chin, and took it back in until I choked. I wrapped my other hand around his balls, fondled them, felt them heavy and tense in my palm. He breathed deeply. I kept going down and up, now with a rhythm that was entirely mine.

At one point Valentina got up from the armchair without interrupting anything. She came over, knelt beside me, and kissed my temple. Her fingers were shiny. She’d been touching herself the whole time.

—Are you okay? —she whispered.

I nodded without stopping.

—Good —she said, and there was a tenderness in her voice that didn’t fit any fantasy I’d built before. It turned out to be the most erotic thing of the whole night.

She put a hand on my thigh and massaged until she found my cock through my pants, rock hard, wet at the tip.

—Look at you —she murmured—. You love sucking him off. Keep going. Don’t stop.

I didn’t stop. Sebastián started breathing faster, with his hand still resting on the back of my neck, not pushing, letting me do it. His cock swelled more between my lips. I felt him coming before he said anything.

—I’m going to come —he warned, voice tight.

Valentina came closer, her mouth almost against my ear.

—Swallow it —she whispered—. I want to see you swallow it all.

I tightened my lips around his cock and sucked. He let out a hoarse moan, jerked, and filled my mouth with a hot, thick stream that hit my throat. I swallowed. Another spurt. I swallowed again. I held it in my mouth until he stopped moving, until the last drop fell onto my tongue, and when I took his cock out I cleaned it with my tongue before letting it go completely.

Valentina grabbed my face with both hands and kissed me with her mouth open, not caring about the taste, devouring me with such hunger that I almost fell backward.

—You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life —she said against my mouth.

***

When it was all over, Sebastián left with the same calm he’d arrived with. Valentina closed the door and turned to me. I was sitting on the floor with my back against the sofa, not especially eager to move.

She sat beside me and rested her head on my shoulder.

—How are you feeling? —she asked.

I took my time.

—Good —I said—. Really good, actually.

—Do you want to talk?

—Not yet.

We stayed silent for a long while, with the noise from the street filtering in through the half-open window. What I felt was hard to name precisely. It wasn’t guilt or confusion or regret. It was something like what you feel when you find a piece you didn’t know was missing: a kind of settling, of completion you hadn’t looked for but, once found, didn’t want to lose.

Valentina knew me well. She knew when to speak and when to stay still. She took me to bed, stripped me completely, and settled in behind me, holding me from behind, her chest pressed against my shoulder blades. Before falling asleep she slid one hand around the front and wrapped my cock, still hard, and jerked me off very slowly, without any intention of making me finish. Just stroking me while she spoke into my ear.

—You were perfect —she whispered—. My boy. Look at you, still hard from sucking him off.

I came into her hand without making a sound, with my breathing broken, and she wiped herself on the sheet and fell asleep wrapped around me not long after.

I took longer.

I kept seeing the scene with my eyes closed: her expression from the armchair, my own hand holding a cock that wasn’t mine, the exact moment when something settled inside me permanently and there was no way to undo it even if I’d wanted to. Which I didn’t.

Valentina had taken me to a place I had never looked for. And from that place, the world had a dimension that hadn’t existed before: one that now seemed obvious, necessary, and completely mine.

***

The next day we had breakfast together. It was raining softly outside. She was reading something on her phone and I was looking at the coffee in my cup. There was no awkwardness. Just the comfortable silence of two people who had crossed a threshold together and didn’t need to talk about it to know it was there.

At one point she looked up.

—Do you want to do it again sometime?

I really thought about it before answering.

—Yes —I said.

She went back to her phone without making a scene. As if it were the most natural thing in the world.

And I suppose, in our case, it already was.