Cami Chose My Birthday for Our First Time

Camila and I had known each other for as long as we could remember. We lived on the same street in a small town, played on the same sidewalk, went to kindergarten together, then primary and secondary school without spending a single year apart. We had spent the last seventeen years walking to the corner together every morning and coming back together every afternoon. When it was time to choose a university, she enrolled in dentistry at a public university in the capital, and I chose physical therapy at a private one in the same neighborhood.

The distance between our faculties was four bus stops, but our routine pulled us apart. She traveled in from town every day and came back exhausted at night; I stayed in a two-room apartment my parents owned and kept empty in the city. Hardly anyone used the place—they kept it for weekend getaways—so during the week I had it all to myself.

Camila came over every so often, slept on the couch when studying kept her up late, and went back to town the next day. But she had never stayed more than one night. Ten days before my nineteenth birthday, I came up with the idea of suggesting something different.

—Come for a whole week, I wrote to her. We have midterms one after another, so we can study anatomy together. And on Friday we’ll celebrate here.

It took her three minutes to answer.

—I’ll let my family know and come.

She arrived Sunday night with a backpack far too big for seven days. I showed her around the apartment as if she didn’t know it, pointed out which room would be hers, and we stayed in the living room until two in the morning, drinking mate and catching up. There was something new in the way she looked at me. Or maybe it was new in the way I looked at her.

Camila had very pale skin, black hair cut above her shoulders, and a body that made her stop at every shop window to adjust her bra. She wasn’t thin, and she didn’t need to be. She had wide hips, a round ass that any T-shirt made obvious, and small, firm tits with nipples that hardened at the slightest touch. I was the typical tall, skinny guy: physical therapy had made me pay attention to the body, and years of swimming had defined me without making me big.

That first night we slept in separate rooms, as always. And over the following days we behaved like two old roommates. She got up before me, made coffee, opened her books on the dining table, and waited for me to finish showering. We studied until noon, ate whatever was handy, took a nap, and reviewed the remaining topics in the afternoon. At night we ordered something and watched a movie until we dropped exhausted.

Until Friday arrived.

I woke up at five-thirty in the morning because she jumped onto my bed shouting. She was wearing short pajamas, and her hair was tousled.

—Happy birthday! She threw herself on top of me and hugged me so tightly she knocked the air out of me.

I hugged her back half-asleep, feeling the heat of her body against mine through the sheet. When she pulled away, she left my cheek wet with a long kiss. I answered with a short one on her forehead. We both stayed silent for a second longer than necessary before she got up.

—I’ll make breakfast, she said, and went into the kitchen.

I had class at seven. Just one, lasting an hour and fifteen minutes. She was going to hand in an assignment at her faculty and, while she was there, remind her friends that they were coming to the apartment that night to celebrate with me. We agreed to meet at noon; I would pick her up by car.

The class felt endless. When I arrived to pick her up, she was sitting on the entrance steps with two girls she later introduced as Romina and Sol. The three of them came down to the car together, greeted me with a kiss, and climbed into the back. Camila sat up front. We dropped the other two off at the subway stop, chatted for a while, made plans for the evening, and set off for the apartment.

We barely spoke on the way. I noticed she was playing with the door handle, opening and closing it without actually opening the door. She asked me twice what I wanted for a present, and twice I told her I didn’t want anything.

—You want something, she insisted, giving me a sidelong look.

—For us to still be friends when we’re forty, I answered, and immediately regretted it for sounding like a cliché.

She laughed, but didn’t say anything else.

We went up to the apartment around one. I went into the bedroom to change: old shorts and a white tank top. When I came out, Camila was still wearing her university uniform, a pale blue shirt tucked into gray pants, sitting in one of the dining chairs with two books open and a notebook full of underlining.

—I need you to help me with the muscles in the neck, she said without looking up. You passed that class last year, right?

—That one and the whole face, I replied.

She laughed and turned the chair so I could sit facing her.

—And how do I study it properly?

—I learned by palpating. If you don’t touch it, it doesn’t stick.

I showed her the muscles on the right side of my neck one by one: sternocleidomastoid, anterior scalene, upper trapezius. She followed my fingers with hers, first through the air and then over my skin. Her hands were cold. Each time she pressed carefully, I tried not to think about how close she was to me.

When we reached the trapezius on the left side, her other hand rose to my cheek and turned my face.

—Happy birthday, she said softly, and kissed me.

It wasn’t a birthday kiss. It was a long, open-mouthed kiss, her tongue seeking mine as if she had been waiting years for that anatomy lesson to do it. When she let me go, she didn’t give me time to process anything: she swung one leg over the chair, sat astride me facing me, and kept kissing me as if there were nothing more urgent in the world. I felt her pussy pressing against my cock through my shorts and felt her begin to move in slow circles, searching for my shape through the fabric.

***

I slid my hands down her back to the bottom of her shirt. She pulled my tank top over my head without breaking the kiss. I undid her buttons one by one from the bottom up, feeling her breathing grow more ragged against my neck. I kissed her collarbone, the base of her throat, the edge of the black lace bra she wore underneath. Her nipples stood out hard through the fabric. I didn’t need to ask her anything: she grabbed the back of my neck and pushed my face against her tits. I pulled the cup down with my teeth and caught one nipple in my mouth, sucked it hard, ran my tongue around it, then slowly bit it until I felt her moan for the first time—a deep, startled moan, as if she didn’t know her own body could make that sound. I did the same to the other nipple while squeezing her breast with one hand, and she moved her ass over my cock faster and faster.

—To the bedroom, I told her after a while. I don’t want it to be here.

She nodded without speaking. She stood, took my hand, and we walked the few yards to the bedroom. On the way, I finished taking off her shirt and pulled down her pants. She was wearing lace panties from the same set as her bra—black, thin, transparent, with a dark stain in the middle from how wet she was.

We fell onto the bed, and I spent a long while with her tits, first one and then the other, sucking, biting, tugging at her hard nipples with my lips while she dug her nails into my shoulders and arched her back to feed more flesh into my mouth. I moved slowly down her abdomen, kissed her navel—I had always loved that perfect hollow she had—and caught her panties with my teeth. I slowly pulled them down that way until I took them off completely at her ankles. Camila covered her face with her forearm, not from embarrassment but from nerves.

—Tell me if you want me to stop, I said.

—Not a fucking chance, she answered from beneath her arm.

I spread her legs wide and stared at her shaved pussy, swollen and glistening with how wet she was. I ran a finger over the outside, very gently, from bottom to top, and watched her lift her hips, seeking more. I leaned in and gave her a first long kiss between the legs, mouth open, without using my tongue yet. Then I began licking her outer lips, one and then the other, sucking them carefully and moving upward until I found her clitoris. I stayed there. I made circles with the tip of my tongue, slowly at first, then faster, and when I felt her thighs tense, I slipped in a finger. I felt her clamp down around it with a force that distracted me for a second. I added a second finger and began moving them inward and upward, searching for her spot inside while continuing to suck her clitoris. She started moving against my face, pushing my head with both hands and saying things to me in broken phrases.

—There, don’t stop, there, fuck, don’t stop.

I had never heard her talk like that. I thrust my fingers deeper, sucked her clitoris harder, and a few seconds later felt her come. She squeezed my head between her thighs until I could barely hear her, and a stream of liquid from her pussy wet my chin and chest. She came with a short, high-pitched cry I had never heard from her, trembling all over, her legs shaking on their own.

When the trembling subsided, she looked at me from the pillow, flushed, mouth open.

—Now you.

She pushed me onto my back and yanked down my shorts and boxers. She stared at my hard cock for a second, as if gauging it, then bent down and took the whole thing into her mouth in one sudden motion. It was an awkward first blowjob, with too many teeth and a lot of saliva, but she wanted it so badly that I forgot all about technique. She sucked me from the tip to the base, ran her tongue all over my shaft, took both my balls into her mouth at once, and nearly made me come right there. Then she took my cock into her mouth again and began bobbing her head faster and faster, making a wet sound that blurred my vision.

—Wait, wait, I told her, sitting up and taking her face in both hands. I want to do this right.

We both knew what that meant. We were both virgins. We had talked about it once, over an ordinary dinner, laughing about why it hadn’t happened to us yet.

—Are you sure?

—If you ask me again, I’ll kill you.

I laid her on her back, spread her legs, and pressed the tip of my cock against the entrance to her pussy. I moved it up and down for a while, getting it thoroughly wet with her fluids, then began to push slowly. She was too tight. The first resistance stopped me; I pressed a little harder, and felt her give way all at once. I saw the mixture of pain and curiosity on her face—something you can’t fake. I stopped every few centimeters, asking with my eyes whether she wanted to continue, and each time she nodded, biting her lip. When I was all the way inside, my balls pressed against her ass, we both went still.

—Don’t move for a second, she asked.

I counted to ten in my head, feeling her squeeze me inside with gentle spasms. Then I pulled out slowly, almost to the tip, thrust all the way back in, and by the third or fourth time her expression changed. She began moving against me, barely at first, then with a rhythm of her own that I simply matched. I grabbed one of her tits and squeezed it, pinched her nipple, and she dug her nails into my lower back.

—Harder, she whispered in my ear. Fuck me harder.

I did as she asked. I started pounding her for real, my hips slamming against the insides of her thighs, making her tits bounce with every thrust. I slipped one hand beneath a knee and spread her leg even farther so I could drive into her all the way. She closed her eyes, opened her mouth, and began whispering things in my ear that pushed me over the edge.

—Fuck me, don’t stop, come on, inside, I want to feel you inside me.

I kissed her neck all the way to her earlobe, whispered that I loved her, and a while later she came again, mouth open and silent, squeezing my cock with such force that she took my breath away. I held out for three or four more thrusts and came inside her without thinking, without warning, shooting hot jets that made her moan again each time she felt them. We stayed that way for a long while without separating, me resting against her tits, her stroking the back of my neck, feeling my cock pulse inside her and slowly soften.

***

We slept for an hour, wrapped around each other. I woke with her hand on my chest and her hair covering half my face. I was about to close my eyes again when I felt my cock harden as she shifted and brushed me with her thigh.

—Again? she murmured without opening her eyes.

—If you’ll let me.

—Now it’s my turn.

She sat on top of me, took my cock in her hand, positioned it at her entrance, and slowly lowered herself until she had taken all of it. She had to bite my shoulder to keep from screaming. She stayed there for a second, sitting on me with her eyes closed, then began moving at her own pace, rising until she nearly pulled me out and dropping down hard, clutching her hair with both hands as if she needed it to keep her balance. Her tits bounced in front of my face. I reached up and grabbed one in each hand, squeezed them, pinched her nipples between my thumb and forefinger, and watched her throw her head back. Then I lowered one hand to her clitoris and began rubbing circles with my thumb at the same rhythm with which she was fucking herself on top of me.

—Oh God, oh God, she repeated faster and faster.

I dug my hands into her ass and helped her move faster, thrusting up into her every time she came down, until I felt her come on top of me, trembling all over and squeezing my cock inside her like a fist. I came a second later, shooting inside her for the second time, while she was still shaking and biting her lip to keep from waking the upstairs neighbor.

When she stood up, I saw a thick white string running down the inside of her thigh, mixed with the blood from her first time. It turned me on all over again, but she was already on her way to the bathroom.

—Come on, she called from the doorway.

We got into the shower together. The hot water struck her back and splashed onto my face. I knelt on the shower floor for a while and ate her pussy again, this time with the water pouring over us, until her knees buckled and she had to brace herself against the tiles. Then I stood, grabbed her by the thighs, and lifted her against the wall. She wrapped her legs around my waist, clung to my neck, and guided my cock with one hand until she felt it inside her again. I fucked her like that, hanging there, squeezed between my body and the tiles, thrusting in and out harder and harder while she bit my neck to keep from screaming. This time I was the one setting the pace. I pounded her until I felt everything coming at once, and then she realized what was happening and pulled my cock out of her pussy just in time. She lowered herself to the shower floor, knelt in front of me, grabbed my cock with both hands, and put it in her mouth. She began sucking and jerking me off at the same time, water streaming over her face and her hair plastered down, until I came into her mouth with my head thrown back. She didn’t let up. She swallowed everything with my cock still inside her, squeezing my balls with one hand, taking every last drop as if she wanted to make sure nothing remained. Then she licked the tip and looked up at me, lips glistening, smiling.

That night Romina and Sol arrived with two other friends and a classmate of mine. We celebrated until four in the morning. Camila didn’t leave my side for a minute, and I couldn’t stop looking at her whenever she laughed, knowing that beneath her dress her pussy was still full of my cum. When everyone left, there was no need to talk about anything. She took her backpack from the room where she had slept the first four days and moved it into mine.

That week of studying turned into six years. Cami stayed in the apartment; when my parents sold it, we put both our names on the deed, and we never again opened our anatomy books without them ending up on the floor.