Tied to the Woman I Hated Most All Night Long

—You’re losing your mind, man. How can you talk to my boyfriend like that?

The tone of her voice gave her away; she didn’t seem to care the least bit how late it was. A harsh slam of a door punctuated her words, a reckless disregard for everyone else’s sleep. Although, to be fair, it would have been bad luck to wake anyone: the nearest bungalow was ours, separated by the pool, and the rest kept a prudent distance. So we were left alone in one of the rooms of the empty bungalow next door, after she confessed she needed to talk to me.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my twenty-two years, it’s that it’s never a good sign when a girl says, “We need to talk.”

—Your boyfriend is also my oldest friend, you know? —I told her.

—That doesn’t change anything —she shot back, belligerent.

—I think we know each other well enough to know what I can joke about with him and what I can’t.

—You went too far.

—And what do you know about it?

—I know him better than you do.

—Sweetheart, I’ve known him way longer than you have —I insisted—. Besides: if you knew him as well as you say, you’d know Damián can look after himself.

—I’ll defend him if I feel like it.

—Did you bring me here for this? To tear into me without looking ridiculous in front of everyone?

—You should be thanking me, actually.

—Oh, sure. Of course —my voice turned sardonic—. I should thank you for everything you bring to this group.

—What are you even saying?

—To us, you’re Damián’s girlfriend, and nothing more. You have no personality —I went on—. You show up, sit down, never say a word, just make faces and whisper under your breath. The only reason you’re here is because your boyfriend pays for everything.

—I paid for the apartment week, smartass.

—And the rest of it?

—If I bother you that much, you shouldn’t have come.

—These are my friends, not yours. Get your bearings.

—And then you wonder why you’re still single.

—What does that have to do with anything?

Noelia was getting under my skin, and the worst part was that she could tell. That sixth sense some women have kicked in when she saw the veins in my neck starting to stand out, little by little. If I’d set myself one goal for this little vacation, it was not to let her ruin the week for us.

—No girl is going to put up with you with that shitty attitude —she snapped.

—Unlike you, there are girls who like men with a little blood in their veins.

—What are you implying?

—Better not take it personally. Life’s happier that way —I exhaled and pulled myself together—. Are you done yet? Or are you going to give me more love advice I never asked for?

She didn’t answer, didn’t even flinch. Instead, she stretched out her arm, over-tanned after three days in the sun, gripped the doorknob, and started to turn it. But all of a sudden, Noelia seemed to freeze. The motion stopped dead.

—What are you doing? —I raised my voice, confused.

—Shhhh.

After shushing me, she turned her head toward me very slowly, almost theatrically. Within seconds her face had gone pale among the curls; she looked like a different person. She was looking in my direction, but without quite meeting my gaze. Finally she managed to whisper:

—I think there’s someone downstairs.

—At this hour? What are you talking about? —I answered, disbelieving.

—Lower your voice.

—You’re out of your mind.

I moved closer to her as she pressed her ear to the door, like in the movies. The wood should have been thick enough to drown out any sound from the house, but when I copied her posture, right behind her, I managed to hear them.

Heavy footsteps, like someone wearing boots. One after another. Sometimes they stopped all of a sudden, then resumed an erratic pace. This bungalow had to be empty; there were no suitcases in the rooms or any sign of life at all. Had Noelia left the door open?

—Fuck, it’s real —I whispered.

—What do we do?

—Maybe it’s Damián, or one of the guys. Call him.

—They were all asleep, idiot.

The footsteps grew heavier, multiplied. So much so that now they sounded like two people instead of one. And worse: they were getting clearer and closer every second.

The knob turned. The door flew open so hard it shoved Noelia into the room. She screamed, tore her throat raw. Two masked figures appeared before us, tall, almost as tall as me. Heavy gym bags hung from their hands, as dark as their clothes.

One of them lunged at Noelia, wrapped an arm around her waist, and moved behind her. With a hand covered by a leather glove, he clamped over her mouth, and her screams dwindled into unintelligible moans.

—Take care of the other one —he ordered in a deep, sinister voice.

His accomplice, who by bearing and build looked like a girl, dropped the bag to the floor and charged at me. Although I couldn’t tell whether they were armed, I raised my hands, palms out. Noelia looked at me and I at her; her expression was pure panic. But something found its way out of her. With all her strength, she sank her teeth into the attacker’s hand.

—You little bitch! —the figure roared.

***

—Come on, man, there’s no need to do this —I begged.

Noelia, cornered and at knife point, watched as the girl tied off the last knot around me. She’d bound my legs together at the ankles, calves, knees, and even thighs. My arms were stretched out over the bed, tied to the corners, so I looked like a figure nailed to a cross.

—It’s not your lucky day —said the assailant.

—We won’t say anything, it isn’t even our apartment —Noelia pleaded.

—Hear that, babe? —the man said to his accomplice—. Here we are, both masked up, and they still think we’re stupid.

They shared a laugh, but it did little to ease the tension in the room. As if the situation wasn’t enough already, being alone in her black bikini and sandals made Noelia feel even more vulnerable. Her voice cracked every now and then.

—We really won’t tell, please.

—Baby —the masked man cut in—. If I got paid every time someone told me that, I wouldn’t have to rob other people’s places, trust me. Come on, get in bed.

—But please.

—No buts.

***

The assailants tied Noelia on top of me. They made her take off her sandals and lie down across my torso. They stretched her out, using what rope they had left to secure her feet and hands in a kind of five-pointed star, each limb tied to a corner of the bed. I could feel all her weight on my body, especially on my chest. Her tits pressed down against me, separated only by the thin fabric of the black bikini triangle, and I felt with unbearable clarity the hardness of her nipples digging into me through the swimsuit.

Our faces ended up almost level, which let me watch every grimace she made in response to the ropes. When they finished binding her, her first instinct was to writhe, twist, fight the knots. And with every tug, her cunt, barely covered by a strip of fabric damp with sweat and panic, rubbed straight against the bulge that had already begun to grow between my legs.

—Can you stay still? —I asked through clenched teeth.

—Sure, because lying here all night like this sounds great, doesn’t it?

—I can’t believe you left the door wide open.

—And I can’t believe you’re blaming me for this.

—Whose fault is it then? You’re the one who dragged me here to spit bullshit.

The weight of her body rocked over mine, as if she were trying to settle into an impossible position. The brush of her half-naked skin against mine, how close she was, her right breast starting to spill out of the bikini and ending up a centimeter from my mouth, the dark, stiff nipple pointing straight at my lips.

—Stop moving, fuck —I snapped, trying to avoid the inevitable.

The more she moved, the more I felt it. Within seconds, my cock had developed a brutal erection, impossible to hide, pressing against the swimsuit fabric with an aching hardness. That was when my cheeks burned. Something inside me wanted Noelia never to notice, but at that distance it was impossible: she felt it planted against her belly, thick, throbbing, pushing against her navel every time I took a deep breath.

I don’t understand anything. I hate this woman with all my soul. I can’t stand her. And yet my instinct was more awake than ever, and at times it only got worse. Every one of her movements, however slight, lit something in me I didn’t want to admit. Every time her cunt, trapped under the black strip, slid against the bulge in my swimsuit, I could feel the fabric over her was getting wetter too. It wasn’t sweat. It was something else. It was her, getting wet, even if she didn’t want to admit it, even if she hated me just as much as I hated her.

—Can we keep it down a bit? It’s late —said the masked man from the hallway.

—Then tell this crazy girl to stay still.

—Don’t talk back to me, kid, shut up.

Noelia, however, wouldn’t stop rocking and moving, in a vain attempt to undo the knots. The accomplice had tightened them nearly until they cut off circulation; no matter how much I complained, there was no way to make her understand that we were never getting out of this. And with every sway, my cock slid more precisely between her parted thighs, pushing the bikini fabric aside just enough to give way a little. A centimeter. Two. Just enough for, for the first time, me to feel the wet heat of her cunt directly against my swimsuit, with almost nothing between us.

—Noelia, stop. Seriously.

—Help me, idiot. Can’t you see this isn’t getting us anywhere?

Her voice was a thin thread, and she kept straining. And with every struggle, her hips rolled over mine, rubbing her soaked cunt against my cock as if she were riding me with the bikini still on. She was masturbating against me without meaning to, or so I forced myself to think. The swimsuit fabric was already dark with the damp seeping from between her legs. The smell, sharp, sour, and sweet at the same time, rose to my nose and clouded my head.

—I’m sick of you two —the masked man muttered.

From my position it was hard to see him, but I managed to glance his way. He was rummaging through the gym bag he’d picked up from the floor. From it he pulled a roll of white duct tape and, gripping it firmly, approached the bed. He stretched the tape with its distinctive biting sound, pressed it with his palm over Noelia’s lips, and began wrapping it around her head. Some long, curly strands got caught in the adhesive. Her mouth was buried under several layers of white tape until the man was satisfied.

She tried to complain, I could see it in her eyes, in her ragged breathing, but it was useless. The assailant tore the tape and, after wrapping her at least seven times, smoothed it down over her cheeks.

—MMPPPPGHHHH, MMMMPPHHH.

She tried to speak, to shout. But her groans were nothing but cacophony. From her gagged lips came a torrent of unintelligible obscenities; the inflection of her voice could be mistaken for sensual gasps. Moans loaded with pleasure that sounded exactly like a woman getting fucked deep in the pussy. A sound that did nothing to calm the brutal erection between my legs, quite the opposite: every muffled moan tightened my cock even more, until I swore it was going to rip through the swimsuit. It made me remember all the times I’d wished I could be the one to shut her up. Shove it down her throat, maybe. Make her stop talking. Exercise the power to silence her poisonous comments, her out-of-place words, the insolence she’d thrown at me.

—Come on, when you’re quiet you’re prettier —the man said—. You too, kid.

From my position, I could barely resist. In the blink of an eye my lips were sealed just like Noelia’s. As suddenly as they had appeared, the assailants vanished. If it weren’t for her nonstop muffled cries, we could have heard them ransacking the bungalow, or at least made out their footsteps fading away.

I could see the reflection of my own contempt in her wide brown eyes. She wouldn’t stop trembling from the brush of my skin. With a sharp movement, her right breast finally broke free of that black bikini that contrasted so sharply with her skin. The nipple, brown, small, and rock hard, was left exposed, grazing my chest with every breath. If it weren’t for the swimsuit I was wearing, my cock would have exploded at that exact moment.

The swimsuit was already starting to get wet, and not just because of her. A hot thread had begun to leak from the tip of my cock, soaking the fabric from the inside, mixing with the juice she was spilling between us. Noelia couldn’t say anything, but I’m sure she could feel the weight between my legs brushing the lower part of her belly. Or at least the tip, thick and swollen, getting wetter and wetter, pressing just below her navel. I threw my gaze up at the ceiling, as if trying to escape the situation. But it was impossible to ignore her. Her movements, her gasps, the moans distorted by the gag that sounded like pure sex.

—MMMMMPHGHGHGH, AHHGHMMPH. POHHGHH FHHHFPHMM —Noelia shouted until her throat was raw.

Nothing she did worked. In fact, everything made it worse. She rubbed her body against mine, defying the yoke of the ropes; her tits flattened against my chest, the bare nipple brushing my skin again and again, and her soaked pelvis ground against mine in a back-and-forth that got faster and faster, more obscene with every pass. The bikini string had worked its way between her pussy lips, marking them, and I could feel them parting around the fabric each time she pushed her hips down.

And then, with one of those thrusts, the black strip slid all the way to one side, and her cunt, naked, wet, swollen, slipped straight over the bulge in my swimsuit. No fabric between us, only the thin barrier of my damp swimsuit between her flesh and my cock. I felt how her lips opened and closed around the shape of my shaft, how her clit, hard as a pebble, bumped against the knot of the swimsuit cord every time she ground herself down.

—MMMPHH, MMMMPHHH —she moaned, and this time there was no other possible interpretation.

She was close. So was I. Her hips were moving on their own now; she wasn’t pretending to fight the ropes anymore: she was coming on top of me, riding me with her bare cunt through the soaking wet fabric of my swimsuit. Her eyes, once defiant, were now half-lidded and glassy, looking at me with a furious shame that only made me hotter. I hated that this was happening. So did I. And both of us didn’t care.

I tried to respond, to avoid the contact, but it was impossible. My hips thrust upward against her without me being able to stop them, and I felt her cunt pouring over my cock, the hot liquid seeping through the fabric and soaking me completely. My legs arched and trembled, I closed my eyes, and for the first time it was me who shouted against the gag.

—MMMGHHHHMMMPHH! —I cried out.

The heat shot up from inside, like a volcano erupting. My cock started pulsing violently between her legs, and each beat sent out a thick, hot spurt of cum that filled the inside of the swimsuit. One spurt. Two. Three. Four. I felt the semen running down my balls, over my groin, soaking the fabric until there was no room left and it started to seep out, toward Noelia’s naked cunt still resting on top of me. She felt it. She felt everything: the spurt, the heat, the viscous wetness mixing with hers, and her hips gave one last brutal jolt before going rigid.

—MMMMMPHHH, MMMMGHHHH —she moaned with her eyes closed, back arched inside the ropes, all her weight dropping onto my cock as she came too.

I felt the contractions of her cunt through the fabric, how it clenched and loosened rhythmically against me, soaking me even more. A tremor ran through her whole body, from her tied thighs to her outstretched arms, and her bare breast slapped against my chest again and again in time with her orgasm. She came on top of me without being able to help it, gagged, tied up, humiliated, and I underneath, equally gagged, equally bound, with my cock still throbbing inside the drenched swimsuit.

The swimsuit was completely soaked through, semen and fluid mixed together, and there was no way Noelia could still be unaware of what had just happened. What had happened to both of us. She was still breathing fast; the truth was the gag made it hard for me to get air. She looked at me, baffled, without stopping moving. Without stopping panting. And her cunt, still pressed against the soaked bulge of my swimsuit, kept giving little involuntary jolts, as if it still wasn’t finished.

How the hell am I supposed to make it through the whole night like this? It was still early morning, our friends were still asleep on the other side of the pool, and there were hours left before anyone noticed we were missing. Hours tied to the only woman in the world I couldn’t stand and whom, for some reason I still don’t understand, my body wanted more than any other. Hours with her naked cunt pressed against my cock, with her cum and mine mixing together and soaking both of us, and with the horrible certainty that, as soon as I got hard again —and I was going to get hard again very soon— we were going to start all over again.