What My Boyfriend Did to Me During My First Livestream

—And that’s it. With this, and everything I’ve taught you these past few days, you’re going to smash it. I’m sure of it.

—I don’t know, Mateo… I’m not convinced I want people to see me. I’m too shy for this.

Mateo came up behind her and kissed the crown of her head while gently squeezing her shoulders. Carla felt the warmth of his hands and relaxed a little, although the knot in her stomach was still there, stubbornly reminding her that in less than an hour, hundreds of strangers might be watching her.

—You’re going to do brilliantly —he said against her hair—. How about we have something to eat first? We can go over a couple of things and your nerves will settle down.

They walked to the dining room. Carla stopped in the doorway and covered her mouth with one hand. On the table, Mateo had laid out two plates of dinner that smelled incredible, a half-open bottle of wine, and two candles flickering in the gloom. They had only been together for two months, and she still wasn’t used to gestures like that.

—It’s beautiful —she murmured—. It looks delicious.

He smiled, pleased with himself. He loved seeing her like that, disarmed by something so small.

—It’s nothing compared to what you deserve.

They ate slowly, going over the details of the premiere. How to sit in front of the camera, how often to look at the lens, how to greet people as they entered the channel. Mateo spoke with the calm of someone who had been doing this for years, although in reality he had only watched a whole lot of tutorials that very week.

—This is important —he said, pointing at her with his fork—. You have to come up with an opening greeting. Something of your own that you repeat in every stream. That’s what people remember.

Carla rested a finger on her chin, thoughtful.

—I could say… “Hi, kitties.”

—Not bad —he conceded, holding back a laugh—. We’ll polish it up.

She barely touched her food. Her nerves had closed up her stomach, rising in little cramps every time she thought about the red “Start Stream” button. Mateo noticed her pushing the food from one side of the plate to the other without eating it, but he said nothing. He knew insisting would only make things worse.

—Don’t overthink it —he simply said.

Carla smiled in response. The moment of truth was approaching, and there was no way to stop it.

***

It was eleven-thirty at night when Mateo turned on the computer and logged into the platform. He had prepared the corner of the study with a warm light behind the monitor and a ring light so she would look good. Meanwhile, Carla was brushing her teeth and deciding what to wear.

—What do you think of this? —she asked from the doorway.

Mateo’s jaw nearly hit the floor. Carla had put on a short sequined dress that hugged her waist and revealed a modest but ample cleavage. The fabric clung to her tits in a way that made it absolutely clear she wasn’t wearing a bra, and her nipples stood out like two hard buttons beneath the sequins. She looked good enough to eat.

—It’s… very nice —he managed to say, unconsciously bringing a hand to his trousers and squeezing the bulge that was already beginning to grow.

For a moment he imagined all the bastards who would see her that night doing exactly the same thing in their homes, hard cocks in hand, jerking off while staring at his girlfriend’s tits and legs. To his surprise, the idea didn’t bother him. On the contrary. Something flared in his stomach, a murky tingling that went straight down to his cock and made it even harder.

—Then it’s decided —she said.

What she actually said was something like “Then it’s dezided,” because she still had the toothbrush in her mouth. It isn’t easy understanding someone who’s brushing their teeth.

—Did you say something, love? —Mateo asked.

—Nothing! Well… I mean, I think we had a good idea.

—I hope so. —He stood up and arranged a comfortable chair in front of the desk—. Look, I’ll stay close by. If you have any questions, I’ll tell you quietly. But try not to look over this way too much, or people will notice.

Carla nodded. She took a deep breath, counted silently to three, and pressed the button.

—Nobody’s connected yet —she said, almost relieved.

—Be patient. They’ll trickle in. As soon as you see a single person, start with the greeting.

Mateo looked at the screen, then at her, and then, almost without thinking, lowered his gaze to her crossed legs beneath the desk. Her dress had ridden up slightly, revealing the white skin of her thigh and a strip of red underwear. His mouth watered. It reminded him how lucky he was.

—There’s one! —Carla exclaimed, straightening her back—. “Hi, kitties! Welcome to my first livestream…”

***

While she chatted with her first viewers, Mateo slipped very slowly down until he was crouching beneath the table, outside the camera’s frame. He had thought of it as a joke, a way to ease Carla’s tension by making her laugh. But now that he was down there, in the gloom, with her legs inches from his face and the warm scent of her pussy drifting out from beneath her dress, the joke began turning into something else. His cock became rock-hard against his fly.

He couldn’t move too much. If the camera caught even a single lock of hair poking out from the edge of the desk, the whole scene would be obvious to everyone. So he stayed perfectly still, holding his breath and listening as Carla’s voice trembled slightly whenever she greeted another person entering the channel.

At one point, she uncrossed her legs and crossed them the other way, revealing for an instant the red underwear beneath her dress, tight, the fabric pressed into the cleft of her pussy. Mateo rested his hands on her thighs, gently asking her silently to stay that way. His fingers crept a little higher until his knuckle brushed the edge of her panties. He felt her stiffen above him, squeezing her knees together for a second before relaxing them again.

—We’re going to play all kinds of ga… mes… —Carla’s voice broke halfway through the word—. Uh… like soccer… or some adventure games…

She couldn’t believe what her boyfriend was doing. And the worst part, the thing she would never admit out loud, was that she didn’t dislike it at all. She felt his hands slowly traveling up the insides of her thighs and, by instinct alone, parted her knees slightly. The dress dragged upward, leaving her pussy almost exposed, covered only by the little red triangle of her panties, which were already growing damp in the center.

—Yes, of course, we’re also going to have horror ga…me nights… ah… —She cleared her throat and forced a smile at the camera—. Sorry, my tongue got stuck.

Under the desk, Mateo brushed his lips along the inside of her thigh, very slowly, leaving a trail of wet kisses climbing straight toward her crotch. When he reached the edge of her panties, he stopped. He pressed his nose lightly against the fabric, sniffing it and breathing in the scent of her aroused pussy. Carla felt his hot breath against the lips of her vulva and almost let a moan escape out loud.

She leaned forward, moving closer to the edge of the chair. She glanced down discreetly for a second and noticed something that made her go pale: in her hurry, she hadn’t put on a bra, and the thin fabric of the dress was beginning to give her away. Her stiff nipples showed through the sequins as if two hard coins had been stuck to her chest. This was going to end in disaster.

—If… if you don’t mind —she improvised—, I’m going to install the game everyone’s talking about. Give me a minute.

She used the pause to mute the microphone and turn off the camera for a moment. Then she bent down into the darkness beneath the table.

—If you keep this up —she whispered through clenched teeth—, I’m going to come in the middle of the livestream and my streaming career will be over before it’s even begun.

—You seemed to be enjoying it quite a lot —he replied, smiling in the shadows. He ran the tip of his finger over her panties, pressing right on her clitoris through the wet fabric—. Your panties are soaked, kitty.

Carla bit her lip until it hurt to keep from moaning. She could feel his soft cock of desire between her legs, her pussy throbbing, her nipples so hard they hurt against the sequins. She said nothing else, but that single look was enough for Mateo to understand everything: she was telling him, “Keep going, you son of a bitch, don’t stop.” She straightened up again, switched the camera and sound back on, and resumed the stream as if nothing had happened.

—I’m back! All set, we’ll start in a minute.

***

She began chatting with her followers again, relieved that Mateo had stopped. She assumed he would wait until the stream was over before coming out of hiding. She was completely wrong.

As soon as the match loaded on the screen, he went right back to work. The popular game was soccer, and Carla tried to concentrate so she could win at least one online match, but it was impossible. Every time she thought she was regaining control, she felt Mateo’s warm breath between her legs, his nose rubbing against her crotch, his lips kissing the insides of her thighs with sadistic calm.

—Come on, put it in! You’re so damn bad! —she shouted at the screen, frustrated with her opponent.

Mateo knew she was talking about the match, but he took advantage of the phrase anyway. With two fingers, he pulled the red fabric aside, exposing Carla’s pussy, glistening with wetness, her lips swollen, her clitoris peeking out like a pink pearl among her trimmed pubic hair. His mouth watered. He brought both fingers to his mouth, licked them thoroughly, and lowered them again. He began stroking her lips very slowly, from top to bottom, sliding through her wetness without penetrating her yet. Carla’s startled jerk nearly ruined everything, because a fit of nervous laughter came over her and she had to swallow it abruptly. Luckily, she managed to hold herself together.

—Now… now comes the best part… ahhh… of the match —she improvised, her voice reduced to a thread.

He wished he could see her face from the other side of the camera, the mixture of panic and pleasure she must be showing at that moment. He moved closer and ran his entire tongue over her pussy, from bottom to top, slowly lapping up all the wetness that had gathered in her cleft. Carla clenched her teeth and gripped the edge of the desk tightly. Mateo repeated the lick, stopping this time at her clitoris, taking it between his lips and sucking it gently.

—Run… run down the wing… —Carla murmured, not quite sure whether she was talking to the player or to him.

Mateo thrust his two saliva-wet fingers inside her all at once, pushing them deep. Carla jerked so hard she nearly gave herself away and forced a fake cough toward the camera to cover it up. His fingers began moving in and out at a slow rhythm, curling inside her to touch the spot that drove her wild while his tongue never let go of her clitoris. He heard a wet squelch escape her every time he withdrew his fingers, obscenely loud, and prayed the microphone wouldn’t pick it up.

—Oh, sorry, it’s just that… —Carla fanned herself with one hand—, the game’s really lagging today. I’m getting nervous.

The viewers were writing in the chat that she looked gorgeous, that she seemed turned on. She smiled at them, forcing herself to remain calm while beneath the table her boyfriend ate her pussy as if it were the only thing in the world that mattered to him. A third finger joined the other two, stretching her, and Carla felt her pussy beginning to squeeze on its own around Mateo’s fingers, throbbing and warning her of what was coming.

Little by little, Mateo sped up. He no longer cared what happened afterward, or about the stream, or the viewers who kept writing in the chat. He drove his fingers in to the knuckles, pulling them out glistening with wetness, and sucked her clitoris with a flat, rapid tongue, punishing her. Carla’s thighs tensed on either side of his face, squeezing his ears; her knees began to tremble, and she felt her whole body preparing for something she wouldn’t be able to conceal.

—Goal! Goal! —Carla cried, gripping the edge of the desk with both hands, her knuckles white.

And what a goal it was. Though not exactly the one from the match. Her pussy clamped down suddenly around Mateo’s fingers, squeezing him in spasms, and a hot stream burst into his mouth. He swallowed it in eager licks without stopping his suckling at her clitoris. Carla came, trembling all over, her head thrown back for a second, her mouth open in a silent O that nearly gave her away on camera.

—Shit, shit, shit… —she whispered, cutting off the stream with a clumsy slap and leaving her brand-new followers hanging.

She spent several seconds breathing hard, her forehead pressed against the dark monitor, her pussy still throbbing, her panties a ruined mess stuck to her lips. From below, Mateo poked his head out, hair tousled, his mouth and chin glistening with her wetness, wearing an impossible-to-erase smile.

—So, how was your first stream as a streamer, love?

Carla didn’t answer him then. She threw a cushion at his head, laughed until her stomach hurt, and then grabbed him by the hair and kissed him as she had never kissed him before, sucking the taste of her own orgasm from his mouth. She shoved a hand down his trousers without hesitation, pulled his hard cock out, and began jerking him off without breaking the kiss.

—Now it’s your turn —she whispered against his lips—. You’ve got me so fucking hard, you son of a bitch.

She knelt between his legs right there on the study floor and took him all the way into her mouth. She sucked his cock with pent-up hunger, forcing it down her throat, looking up at him with shining eyes while he held her head and guided her at his own pace. Mateo held out as long as he could—very little, considering how worked up he had gotten eating her out—and came in her mouth a few minutes later, in thick spurts that she swallowed whole without pulling off him.

They stayed sprawled there on the rug, panting and laughing softly, his cum still trickling from the corner of her mouth.

I’m not going to tell him tonight, she thought as she stroked his hair, but from now on, I won’t be able to stream any other way.

And that’s exactly what happened. Every Thursday at eleven-thirty at night, Carla greeted her kitties with a smile far too serene to be real, knowing that right beneath the desk, someone was waiting for her with his tongue ready and his fingers prepared to turn every match into a soaked secret shared by the two of them alone.