What We Started at Nineteen Was Never Forgotten

2015

Professor Don Alberto had a reputation for being fair with grades as long as you made an effort. That Tuesday he announced that we would work on the subject of Francoism in pairs, in alphabetical order, and that we had three days.

By alphabetical order, I was paired with Rodrigo. A guy who, during the first week of term, had laughed at me with the classmate next to him when they heard me talking about Latin. Some stupid comment about dead languages and what use they were. He hadn’t looked at me since.

I approached his desk without much enthusiasm.

—We’ve been paired up. I’m sorry too —I said.

He looked up, blushing slightly. He wore thick-rimmed glasses and his hair was a little longer than was usually seen at the university. His friend Lucas let out a quiet snicker.

—Do you want us to ask to switch? —Rodrigo said, scratching the back of his neck.

—No, it’s fine. Are you coming to my place this afternoon? At six.

—Okay.

He arrived on time. He came by car. He found me in the living room without having changed clothes: a pair of short pajama pants and a loose T-shirt with a fairly open neckline. I hadn’t thought about dressing for the occasion because, in my mind, this wasn’t an occasion at all.

We put on music while we got the books out. I asked him what he liked.

—Rock, mostly. Some electronic music too —he said.

—Seriously?

—Do I look like I’d listen to something else?

It turned out he liked the same bands I did. We started working with a rock playlist in the background, and at some point we stopped looking at the books to talk about concerts and albums and things I hadn’t expected to matter to that guy who had laughed at me. After a while I realized he had been staring at my cleavage for quite some time. I was wearing a strappy pajama top with a plunging neckline, and I hadn’t put on a bra when I got home. My nipples showed through the fabric. I didn’t feel like an extraordinary girl, but I was striking in my own way. And it was obvious that I had caught Rodrigo’s attention.

—We’re not going to finish today —I said—. Same time tomorrow?

—Yes, of course.

Before leaving, he said, almost in passing:

—I never disliked you. The Latin thing was stupid. I was trying to get your attention.

I hadn’t expected that. I blinked several times and looked away.

***

On the second day we finished the assignment in record time. I had put on something even more comfortable: an oversized T-shirt and a pair of fabric panties that peeked out whenever I stood up. It hadn’t been entirely premeditated—or maybe it had. I don’t know anymore.

When I got up to serve him a soft drink, my shirt rode up for a moment. When I sat down, I saw him shift uncomfortably on the sofa. I liked that he liked me. Knowing I did that to him made me incredibly horny.

—Have you ever been with anyone? —I asked, not really knowing why.

—With a few girls long-distance, online. Nothing physical. Not even a kiss.

I looked at him. He was nineteen and had never kissed anyone. I didn’t feel sorry for him. I felt something completely different: a very clear desire to be the first person to give him something real.

—Will you let me fix that?

He froze on the sofa.

—Are you asking permission to kiss me?

—Don’t you want me to?

—Elena —he said, his voice almost breaking—, you could do anything you wanted to me.

I moved closer slowly. I put my hand on his face, felt his jaw trembling, and kissed him. He opened his mouth immediately, hot and a little clumsy at first. I slipped my tongue in without warning and taught him to move it against mine. He learned quickly. I straddled him and pressed myself against his lap. I felt his hard cock perfectly against my pussy through the thin pajama fabric. I thrust my hips and rubbed myself against it, up and down, feeling the bulge grow harder and harder. A moan escaped him, which he tried to swallow. His hands found my ass almost instinctively, slipped beneath my panties, and squeezed it with an intensity that surprised me for someone so inexperienced.

It was the hottest kiss I had ever had up to that point in my life.

I pulled off his T-shirt and ran my nails over his chest. He tried to unhook my bra inside my shirt with nervous fingers. I helped him. When he saw them, he went still for a second, looking at me as if I were the first real thing he had ever seen.

—Fuck —he said softly—. They’re perfect.

—Can I? —His eyes indicated what he was already staring at.

—Come here —I said, grabbing his head and bringing him to my tits.

He did it slowly. He kissed the side of my breast first, then moved up to my nipple and took it into his mouth with a patience I hadn’t expected from someone so inexperienced. He sucked hungrily, licked it, held it between his teeth, and went back to sucking. With his other hand he stimulated my other nipple, gently pulling and twisting it. I moved on top of him, rocking against his hard cock without being able to stop. The denim rubbed my clit through my panties, and I felt myself getting so wet I was going to leave a stain on his pants.

—Suck them harder —I panted—. As if you wanted to hurt me.

He obeyed. He bit my nipple and gently pulled it back with his teeth. A cry escaped me. I grabbed his hand and pushed it inside my panties before he had time to think. When his fingers brushed my soaked pussy, he shuddered as if he’d been struck by lightning.

—You’re so wet —he whispered against my tit.

—It’s because you’re making me horny as a bitch. Keep going.

I guided his index finger to my clitoris and taught him to circle it slowly. He was learning. He slipped two fingers inside me and curled them almost instinctively, and I rode his hand while continuing to rub the bulge of his cock with my hips. My whole body was trembling. I grabbed the nape of his neck and pushed his face against my tits again.

—If you don’t stop, I’m going to want you to fuck me —I told him breathlessly.

—I’d love to —he said, his voice trembling with desire—. I’d love to bury it inside you right now.

Then we heard the key turning in the lock.

I slid off him in half a second. I ran to the bathroom and grabbed the first pair of pants I found hanging on the rack. When I returned to the living room, Rodrigo had a cushion on his lap and the laptop open on top of it. My father came in humming.

—Studying, kids?

—Yes, Dad. Hi.

—Hi —Rodrigo said in a perfectly calm voice that impressed me quite a bit.

***

The next day we handed in the assignment and got a good grade. At the campus sports center, Rodrigo ran right behind me for the entire lap around the track. When we finished, he came up close and said almost in my ear:

—I spent the whole class watching your ass bounce. You’re fucking hot.

That afternoon he didn’t text me. Nor that night, nor the next day, nor that weekend.

On Monday I found out why. Rodrigo’s father had been in an accident. He died. His mother, who was in the middle of separation proceedings, decided to return to her hometown with the boys. Rodrigo left without a phone charger, without saying goodbye, unable to tell me anything.

—I’m so sorry. I don’t know when we’ll be back —he wrote to me a week later—. I’d love to be there and see you.

—I’m sorry too. I hope I see you soon —I replied.

But that didn’t happen. Finals came, then summer, then September. I started the new term carrying the feeling that I had been left with something unfinished that I would never be able to complete.

***

In the years that followed, I had sex with quite a lot of people. Men, women. No commitment, not much of a story. But whenever someone kissed my breasts, I thought about how he had done it. When they entered me, I wondered what it would have been like with Rodrigo.

He was my unfinished business. Small, ridiculous, enormous depending on the day.

I envied ghosts I didn’t know. I felt imaginary jealousy toward any woman who might have touched him over all those years.

***

2026

Damián and I had been together for four years when we got engaged. I met him at his own club, a place on the outskirts where people went to listen to classic rock, drink well, and, if they wanted, do something more. The first night I went with some friends to snoop around, I ended up in one of the private rooms with him. He owned the place. That said everything about his character.

Our relationship wasn’t very conventional. Damián liked swapping, shared fantasies. I tolerated it, more or less willingly depending on the moment. We loved each other and took care of each other. That was enough for me.

On New Year’s Eve we organized a party at the club. I had dinner with my family and arrived when people were already beginning to come in. I put on a corset top that pushed up my breasts and a very short denim skirt. Damián looked at me from behind the bar.

—You want people to devour you with their eyes.

—Maybe —I said, drawing out the word.

I stayed with Carmen, the bartender, preparing the first cocktails while Damián acted as the doorman. Quite a few people came in. I greeted acquaintances, served mixed drinks, and exchanged words with strangers. A very elegant blonde, wearing a dress that was too formal for the place and heels that made her look extremely tall, asked me for a vodka on the rocks and a mixed drink for her partner.

I searched the room for her partner.

He was standing with his back to the bar, looking around. Tall, almost six foot two. Broad but well-proportioned shoulders—there was genetics involved as well as exercise. Long dark hair tied into a bun with a black elastic. A full beard. When he turned around, his eyes met mine before I could prepare myself for that moment.

The glasses were different. The face was a man’s. But they were his eyes. It was Rodrigo.

He looked at me, and his eyes widened in exactly the same way mine did. He had changed completely, of course he had changed. He must have been about thirty, big and handsome in a way that hadn’t been entirely apparent at nineteen. I wasn’t the same either: I felt good in my body, more confident, more myself. It showed in the way his gaze traveled over me from head to toe. I looked him over in exactly the same way, without hiding it.

I told Carmen I would take care of that couple myself.

—Hi. Which one is the vodka, and which one is the mixed drink?

—The vodka’s mine. I’m the one who wears the pants in this relationship —the blonde said with a smile.

—You’re in charge, even with a guy that big?

—Very big, but I’m the one who dominates —she played along.

Rodrigo hadn’t said anything the whole time. He looked at me as if he couldn’t quite believe I was really there. Damián came around from behind the bar and joined the group.

—Darling, I see you’ve met my girlfriend.

—I’m Valeria —the blonde said—. Your boyfriend sold us the tickets through Instagram. Nice to meet you. This is Rodrigo.

—Elena —I said, looking only at him—. Nice to meet you.

***

I went to the storeroom on an excuse, and Damián followed me.

—You like the guy —he said.

—I know him. From before. A long time ago.

Damián knew me well. He understood what I wasn’t saying.

—Do you want him? —he asked.

—Yes.

—They came intending to do that. I had them in mind for tonight. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I don’t think there’ll be a problem.

—I want the rooms here. Not at home.

At the end of the night, Damián invited them to stay. Valeria didn’t need to be asked twice. Rodrigo searched for me with his eyes. I didn’t look away.

The four of us started in room one. Valeria and Damián found their own rhythm immediately. Rodrigo unlaced my corset with a calmness that didn’t fit the situation. No hurry. As if he had spent years waiting to do exactly that, and now that he could, he had no intention of rushing.

—I can’t believe you’re here —he said in my ear.

—I’m here —I said.

When Damián suggested that we all continue together, I took the keys to room two from my purse and placed them in Rodrigo’s hand. I looked at him. He looked at me. He understood without my saying anything else.

***

I closed the door behind us, and he kissed me against the wall before I could turn on the light. I kissed him with more than ten years of accumulated hunger. He tasted of alcohol, something sweet, something I recognized without ever having tasted it before. He thrust his tongue deep into my mouth and squeezed my tits over the corset, searching for skin. I undid his pants and slipped my hand inside his underwear without preliminaries. A moan escaped me when I felt it. He was big, thick, and already completely hard. I wrapped my fist around him and stroked up and down, squeezing, rubbing the wet tip with my thumb.

—Fuck, Elena —he said through clenched teeth—. I’ve been imagining this for eleven years.

—Shut up and fuck me already.

He lifted me by the thighs and tossed me onto the bed. He ripped off my panties and spread my legs wide.

He started down below. He licked from my knee to the inside of my thigh, pulled my underwear away with his teeth, and ran his tongue over everything I had waited so long for. He wasn’t in any hurry. He savored, sucked, explored. He spread my pussy lips with his thumbs and thrust his tongue inside me, slowly twisting it. Then he moved up to my clitoris and sucked it as if it were the only thing that mattered in the world. He put two fingers inside me and curled them, searching for a spot within me. He found it on the first try.

—There, fuck, don’t stop —I begged—. Right there.

He sucked, licked, and fucked me with his fingers all at once. I grabbed his hair and pressed his face against my pussy. I clung to the sheets with my other hand and held out as long as I could before coming for the first time with a moan I couldn’t contain. I felt my pussy contract around his fingers while he kept sucking me without letting go, swallowing everything I released onto him.

—Already? —he said, and I could see his smile in the half-light, his mouth glistening with me.

—Come up —I said—. Now.

He knelt between my legs, and at last I saw his entire cock. Long, thick, veins standing out, the tip soaked with the desire I had for him. He held it in his hand and ran it over my open lips, wetting himself with my orgasm.

—Put it in me now —I said—. All of it.

I climbed on top of him when he lay down. I took hold of his cock and positioned it at my entrance. I lowered myself slowly and felt it enter little by little, big and filling me completely. When he was all the way inside, I had to stay still for a moment because there was no room for more. Rodrigo’s eyes were half-closed and his mouth was open.

—You’re so tight —he said—. I’m going to come in two minutes if I’m not careful.

—Hold on —I told him—. You’re going to last as long as I want you to.

I began moving slowly, drawing almost all the way out and lowering myself again until he was buried to the hilt. I kissed him as I moved. His hands rested on my hips, guiding me without forcing me. I pressed my breasts to his face and let him do whatever he wanted, thinking of that afternoon more than ten years earlier, of the way he had looked at me when he removed my bra for the first time. Now he sucked my tits like a man, not like the boy he had been then. He knew exactly what to do, when to clamp my nipple between his teeth and when to lick it all over.

—Do you know how many times I thought about this? —he asked between gasps.

—Tell me.

—The first time I was with someone, I did it with my eyes closed, imagining you were her. I jerked off thinking about you for years, Elena. Your face, your tits, this mouth.

—Then don’t you dare close your eyes now.

I sat up so he could see all of me. I watched my tits bounce above him, his cock sliding in and out of my soaked pussy. He looked at me as if I were the only thing that existed in that room. I sped up, bracing my hands on his chest and bouncing on him with all my desire. I brought my hand to my clitoris and rubbed it without looking away from him. I came twice more, one after the other, screaming at him not to stop, to fuck me harder. Before he could hold out any longer.

—I can’t take it anymore —he said—. Elena, seriously, I’m going to come.

—Wait. Not yet.

I got off and went onto all fours at the edge of the bed, looking back. I presented him with my raised ass and spread my pussy with my fingers so he could see where he had to put it.

—This was the other fantasy I had about you —I told him—. Fuck me from behind. However you want.

What followed was savage. He positioned himself behind me and drove into me in a single thrust, burying himself to the hilt. A moan tore out of me, and I couldn’t tell whether it was from pleasure or surprise. He grabbed my hair, wound it around his fist, and pulled gently backward. He began fucking me with a brutal rhythm, delivering hard thrusts that made my ass smack against his hips. The bed squeaked, my tits bounced beneath me. With his other hand he spanked my ass until my skin was red and burning.

—Tell me I’m the one fucking you —he said through his teeth.

—You are, fuck, you are. Rodrigo, don’t stop.

—Eleven years, Elena. Eleven fucking years wanting to do this to you.

He came inside me with his hands digging into my hips, gasping, continuing to move until the very end. I felt him empty himself deep inside me, his cock throbbing as he came again and again. I collapsed, exhausted, on top of the bedspread, his semen slowly leaking down the insides of my thighs.

We lay on our backs, naked, without saying anything for several minutes. I rested my head on his chest and felt his heart still beating fast.

—I don’t want you to disappear again —I said.

—I’m not going anywhere —he replied, and gave me a long kiss on the temple.

***

Back in the club’s lounge, the four of us had a drink on the sofas. They talked about concerts, music, and inconsequential things. Valeria tried to make conversation with me about the club’s decor. We exchanged phone numbers on the excuse of doing it again sometime.

That night, before going to sleep, I received a message from an unknown number.

It’s Rodrigo. I accidentally took the room key with me. Should I come by tomorrow to return it?

Damián had padel the next afternoon. At four.

Yes, I wrote. At five.

***

He arrived on time. Old habits.

I had deliberately put the keys in his pocket, and we both knew it. He left his coat on the coat rack, and we talked for ten minutes about nothing, sitting on the sofa. Then I kissed him, because I couldn’t go on without doing it, and the sex was as good as the night before, but different. No audience, no performance, no party noise on the other side of the wall. Just the two of us and eleven years of accumulated debt.

I took off his T-shirt and undid his jeans with hands that were already trembling. I knelt between his legs on the sofa and pulled out his cock. He was hard before I touched him. I put it in my mouth slowly, licking the tip first, circling the head with my tongue, sliding down the entire shaft and coming back up. I cupped his balls with my other hand and squeezed them gently while I sucked. Rodrigo threw his head back and let out a long moan.

—Fuck, you suck cock so well —he said.

I looked up at him as I took him all the way into my mouth. I pulled him out completely to lick from his balls to the tip in one stroke of my tongue. I took him back into my mouth and sped up. Saliva ran from the corner of my mouth down onto my chest. He held my hair without forcing me, setting the pace.

—Lift me up —I said, releasing him for a second—. I need you inside me.

He lifted me onto him on the sofa. He pulled my dress over my head. I wasn’t wearing a bra. He sucked my tits while I positioned myself above him. I rode him on the sofa with my back to him while he bit my neck over my shoulder and moaned against my skin. He squeezed my breasts with both hands and found my clitoris with his fingers while I moved up and down. I spread my legs as wide as I could, bracing my feet on the sofa so he could reach all the way inside me with every downward stroke.

—Like that, like that, don’t stop —I said—. Put it all the way in.

He thrust up into me with hard strokes that knocked the breath from me. I came on top of him with a shudder that rose from my feet to the nape of my neck. I collapsed against his chest, gasping.

He stood up with me still impaled on him and took me to the floor without pulling out. Then, on the floor, face-to-face, we stared at each other without looking away. He opened my legs and rested them on his shoulders, folding me almost in half. He thrust into me again and began fucking me with deep strokes, staring intently at me the whole time.

—Look at what I’ve spent eleven years wanting to do to you —he said.

—Fuck me harder and shut up.

He lowered himself over me and kissed my mouth as he thrust. I felt his cock sliding in and out, striking a spot inside me that tore moans from me that I couldn’t control. I scratched his back until I left red marks that would last a week.

At the end I lay on my back with my head against the back of the sofa, letting it hang over the edge.

—Fuck my mouth —I said—. As if you didn’t have to look at my face.

He stood in front of me and ran the tip over my lips. I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue. He pushed himself in slowly at first, letting me get used to him, then began thrusting deeper. I took him all the way down my throat, never moving my hands from my own body. I put two fingers inside my pussy and rubbed my clitoris with my thumb while he fucked my face. With my other hand I grabbed his balls and pulled gently.

—I’m going to come in your mouth —he said, his voice breaking.

I dug my nails into his thigh so he wouldn’t pull away. He came there, jet after jet against my palate, and I came at the same time over my own fingers. I swallowed as much as I could and let the rest run from the corner of my mouth down my neck.

We said goodbye at the door with a gentle, unhurried kiss, as if we had all the time in the world.

—Give me an excuse to come back —he said.

—I’ll think of something —I replied.

***

That week I told Damián who Rodrigo was. Not everything, but enough. I told him that he had been unfinished business since I was nineteen, one of those things that don’t resolve themselves and weigh more than you’d like to admit. That I couldn’t treat him like some hot stranger and say goodbye.

Damián listened to me. He liked Valeria too, much more than he had let on that night. She was a perfect fit for him.

We reached an agreement: once a month, with the room keys. The rest of the time, a normal couple like any other.

I don’t know whether it was the right thing. I know it’s what happened. And I know that, for the first time in many years, I fell asleep without thinking about what he had left me owing.

The debt was paid. Although every time I saw him, I had the impression that it had only just begun.