What I Tasted from My Girlfriend’s Ex That Night

Hello again to everyone who follows me. I was glad to read that you all liked the previous story so much, because the truth is it took me a while to work up the nerve to tell it. This is the second part, so to really understand what I’m talking about, it’s best to have read the earlier one.

After that night when Carla fulfilled my fantasy, I couldn’t get the scene out of my head. Our nights together were still intense, but every time she sucked me off, I would close my eyes and unwillingly return to that room, to that moment the three of us had shared.

The strange thing was what kept circling through my mind the most. It wasn’t her. It was him. The memory of Bruno, her ex from high school, sitting in that armchair with that enormous thing I couldn’t stop staring at. I was a little embarrassed to admit it, even to myself.

One night, masturbating alone at home, I realized I could only finish if I imagined him. Bruno lying back, still damp, with that superior look he used to have. Never in my life had I felt curious about another man, and suddenly I couldn’t think about anything else.

What would he taste like? Would it be the way I imagined?

I told myself it was foolishness, a passing urge. But the urge didn’t go away. It grew.

***

A couple of weeks went by until fate, or whatever it was, decided to intervene. I had gone out with my friends to a huge party near the coast, the kind that starts early and no one knows when it will end. I already had several beers in me when I saw him a few yards away, leaning against the bar.

Bruno.

We greeted each other as if nothing had happened and started talking. He told me about his new girlfriend, how in love he was, his job. I nodded and replied, but inside my stomach was tied in knots. Every so often my eyes dropped involuntarily toward his pants, and I forced myself to look back up.

The alcohol loosened the conversation. At one point, when we were both half-drunk, he asked me about her.

—How’s Carla doing? —he asked with a crooked smile.

—Fine, probably at home —I replied.

—Say hi to her for me. It’s been a long time since we talked.

—She’ll be happy to hear from you —I said, and immediately regretted putting it that way.

—Really? I thought she didn’t even remember me anymore.

—I thought you two were even sending each other pictures in secret —I blurted out, half-joking.

We laughed like a couple of idiots. The laughter gave us confidence, and the confidence gave me the courage to keep venturing into dangerous territory.

—Seriously, I’m sure she remembers you well —I insisted—. She told me that back in high school you two used to fool around in the computer lab.

Bruno raised his eyebrows, surprised that I knew so much. That turned me on even more, hearing him talk about what my girlfriend had done to him years earlier, as if it were something natural between us.

—The truth is —I said, lowering my voice a little— I understand why she liked it so much. She’s good at that. And you’re not badly endowed at all.

I said it and felt like my heart was about to jump out of my chest. Bruno stared at me, gauging whether I was serious or whether it was just the beer talking.

—Is that what you think? —he asked, not laughing this time.

—I saw it, didn’t I? —I replied—. I don’t know how she managed to take something like that.

There was a strange silence. The kind that stretches on longer than it should. We both knew the conversation had changed tone, and neither of us wanted to end it.

—Would you like to touch it? —he suddenly asked, almost in a whisper.

I froze. I didn’t know whether he was joking to test me or whether he meant it. I looked at him, searching for the mocking smile he’d had before, but it wasn’t there.

—We can’t do that here —I answered, and with that reply I unintentionally confessed that I wanted to.

—Then let’s go —he said, leaving his glass on the bar.

Something inside me, a part I didn’t fully recognize, rose up before reason could stop it.

***

We told our friends we were going to look for some girls. A complete lie. We climbed into his pickup and headed toward the beach, the secluded one where there wouldn’t be a soul around at that hour.

We barely spoke on the way. I watched the dark road and, out of the corner of my eye, noticed how everything showed through his pants. I couldn’t believe it. I was suddenly sober and drunk with desire at the same time.

The moment overcame me. I moved closer and began undoing his belt. He raised his hips to help me, saying nothing, his eyes fixed straight ahead. When I finally freed him, I stared in fascination, just as I had on all those nights imagining him. He was exactly as I remembered: thick, heavy, the skin taut and hot beneath my fingers. I stroked him slowly while he drove, feeling him grow even harder in my hand. He barely fit in my palm. That was how we stayed until the streetlights disappeared and the sound of the engine gave way to the sound of the sea.

We arrived. The beach was completely deserted, lit only by the moon and a distant lamp outside a closed stand. Bruno got out, took a couple of folding chairs from the trunk, and, without the slightest embarrassment, took off his pants.

There he was, standing in front of me with everything exposed and a confidence that intimidated and aroused me in equal measure. He had a great body, broad shoulders, and even that appealed to me—something I never thought I’d say about another man. His cock hung hard, wet at the tip, trembling slightly in the salty air. I couldn’t stop looking at it.

—Come here, sit here —he said, sitting down and spreading his legs.

I knelt in the cold sand. I stroked him with one hand and held my beer with the other, as if looking for an excuse to make what was happening seem less serious than it was. We chatted like that for a while, about sex, about nonsense, while I kept touching him. I pulled back his foreskin with my thumb, rubbed his balls, felt the soft, taut skin beneath my fingertips. Every time he looked at me, my mouth went dry from pure lust.

—I don’t understand how Carla managed to fit all of this in her mouth —I said, almost to myself.

Bruno set his beer aside. He gripped the back of my neck with one hand and began brushing the tip against my lips with the other. I stuck out my tongue, hesitating, and tasted him. He had a strange flavor, salty, heavy, difficult to explain, intense. My head was pounding.

Then I opened my mouth and took the head in. And for some reason I still don’t understand, he tasted like heaven. It was exactly what I had imagined so many nights, only a thousand times more real. I felt him brush against my tongue, press against my palate, fill my whole mouth with that firm, throbbing flesh. I went deeper, slowly, until he forced me to breathe through my nose.

***

I surprised myself by enjoying it. Bruno held my head and set the pace as he pleased. At one point he pushed all the way in, and I felt him hit the back of my throat. He left him there for a few seconds and then pulled out abruptly. I coughed, gagged, and my eyes filled with tears.

So this is what women feel when we do it without holding back.

Instead of putting me off, it made me want more. I tried again, and again, letting him use me while he breathed like a tired bull. The sound of his panting bounced off my face. I sucked the tip, licked the base, ran my tongue underneath, feeling him grow even harder every time I swallowed him.

—Lick my balls —he ordered, raising his legs slightly.

I obeyed without thinking. I was completely lost in it, turned on in a way I had never experienced before. I licked them eagerly, feeling how heavy and hot they were, as if they were about to burst. I took one into my mouth and sucked it slowly, then the other, while he settled back in the chair and let out a short moan, almost embarrassed by how much he liked it.

With his other hand he gently pushed me downward. I knew what he wanted. Carla had told me he loved having that done to him, being licked back there, and the shameless bastard wanted to feel my tongue in the same place.

I hesitated. I thought about stopping, about how that was already too much. But curiosity won me over again. I lowered myself little by little, licking everything in my path until I reached the place he was asking for. Bruno let out a long growl. He smelled strong and tasted strange, salty and sour at the same time, an experience unlike anything I had ever gone through. I spread his buttocks with my hands and slowly pushed my tongue inside him, exploring that tight, hot entrance while his whole body tensed on the chair.

And yet I liked it. We stayed that way for quite a while, me completely surrendered, him enjoying himself as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He moved my head with one hand, set the rhythm, and I obeyed. I licked harder when he gripped my hair, more gently when he relaxed. Sand stuck to my knees, but I no longer felt anything beyond that mouth, that ass, that body above me.

***

Suddenly he stood up. He told me he was about to come and wanted to do it on my tongue. He put me on my knees in front of him, gripped my hair, and began masturbating inches from my face while I licked underneath him. I watched his whole body grow taut, his thighs tremble, the veins stand out on his cock as he moved it in short, rapid strokes. I opened my mouth wider and stuck out my tongue, waiting.

When the moment came, I closed my lips over the tip almost instinctively. I felt a hot stream fill my mouth. It was more than I expected, thick and abundant, with a sweet-and-salty taste spilling from the corners of my lips. It filled my tongue and throat, forcing me to swallow in short gulps while he kept releasing more, trembling in front of me.

I swallowed. It was a strange sensation, like eating an oyster in one gulp. From below, I watched him writhe, his head thrown back, wearing a smile I understood immediately. He was turned on by the thrill of having his ex’s boyfriend on his knees, doing to him what she had done years before. I wiped myself with my thumb, sucked the tip so I wouldn’t waste a single drop, and he let out another moan, lower and more broken.

Even so, I continued for a few more minutes, licking slowly until he lay still. His cock was still pulsing between my fingers, sticky, while I devoted myself to milking it with my hand and running my tongue along the entire base, getting the remaining semen off his skin.

—You swallowed it? —he asked, looking at me with one eyebrow raised.

—Yes —I replied with a mischievous smile—. And I liked it.

He pulled his pants back up without saying much. I took a couple of swigs of beer to get the taste out of my mouth, although the truth was it didn’t even bother me anymore. Then we got back into the pickup and returned to the party as if nothing had happened.

We rejoined our friends, said hello, and carried on with the night. No one suspected a thing. But I was no longer the same person I had been two hours earlier.

***

That early morning I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about him, about what I had done, about how much I had enjoyed something I had never thought possible. I wanted to do it again, and that frightened me as much as it turned me on.

And then there was the other problem, the real one. How was I supposed to tell Carla what had happened with her ex? Would she get angry? Or would it turn her on as much as it had him?

For now, I’ll say goodbye. I’ll keep telling you everything, because this is only beginning and the best is still to come. Take care, and I’ll see you soon.