The Afternoon Marco and I Lost Our Innocence

This happened a little over two months ago, although sometimes it feels like yesterday. My name is Sofía, I had just turned eighteen and was in my final year of high school. Physically, I’m dark-haired, with a pretty face and average height, and a slim body I’d always looked after without really meaning to. My chest isn’t my best feature, but it’s firm and well-proportioned, with small, sensitive nipples that harden at the slightest touch. My ass, on the other hand, has been the subject of more than a few comments in the hallways: round, perky, the kind that fills out a pair of jeans nicely.

I was always a quiet girl, the kind who’d rather stay home with a series than go out looking for a party. I never smoked, never drank more than necessary, and I’d never had a boyfriend. I’d never slept with anyone, either. My friends had. Daniela had been fucking the same guy for three years. Carmen had already had two relationships and liked to brag that she knew more about cocks than anyone. And I still had no one who really interested me, even though they kept insisting that “being so pretty” it was a crime to stay home on Saturdays without anyone touching me.

One day, while we were doing homework in my room, Daniela looked up from her book and said to me with that certainty of hers that admits no argument:

—You like someone. I know because you’ve had that look for weeks.

I denied it twice, but in the end I gave in. I told them there was a boy in class, Marco, someone I’d spoken to a few times in the hallway and at the school gate, and that he seemed different from the rest. He wasn’t the most popular or the best-looking guy in the year, but he had something. The way he looked at you, the way he listened, the way he didn’t interrupt when I was talking. Those things nobody notices until someone points them out.

—Marco —Carmen repeated, with a slow smile—. Interesting.

—It’s nothing —I replied—. I just think he’s a nice guy.

Daniela exchanged a look with Carmen that I pretended not to see. I knew those looks. They meant something was in motion and I’d find out when they decided to tell me.

***

The next day they told me they’d invited him to come to my place that afternoon, “to hang out,” without my exactly knowing how they’d arranged it. He arrived at six on the dot. He was wearing a dark T-shirt and his hair was slightly tousled, that kind of tousled that looks accidental but has been thought out. When he greeted me at the door, he gave me two kisses on the cheek without hesitation, as if we already knew each other well.

The four of us sat down in the living room and Daniela suggested a game. The format was simple: you give three names and have to decide which one you’d marry, which one you’d eliminate, and which one you’d only spend one night with. Carmen explained the rules enthusiastically, and Marco listened with a smile that made it hard to tell whether he found the game funny or the whole situation funny.

The first rounds were innocent. Actors, singers, teachers from school everyone knew. We laughed a lot. But then Daniela turned it around and gave Marco three names to choose from: Rebeca, Valeria, and me.

Rebeca was a pretty unpleasant classmate none of us had much to do with. Valeria was the most striking girl in the year, the kind who walks into a room and everyone turns to look. And I was me. I stayed still, waiting with my stomach clenched.

Marco didn’t hesitate for long. He said he’d eliminate Rebeca, spend only one night with Valeria, and marry me.

—Wait —Daniela cut in with an overly wide smile—. Does marrying include what being married includes, right? Fucking as many times as you want?

Marco looked at her without blinking.

—Of course. It includes everything.

Daniela clapped as if he’d just won a bet. I tried not to let my face show what was happening inside me, though everyone probably noticed. I could already feel a wetness between my legs that I’d never felt before because of a real boy, only because of stupid fantasies in bed in the dark.

We kept playing a little longer. When it was my turn to choose, Marco was among the three names they gave me. I didn’t put him in the marrying option because anyone pressured me to. It was simply what I wanted.

***

At eight o’clock, Carmen and Daniela announced they were leaving. They stood up with too much coordination for it to be spontaneous. Before going out, Daniela put an arm around me and whispered in my ear while helping me gather the glasses from the table:

—About time, Sofía. Look in the right pocket of your pants.

I put my hand in and found a condom in its wrapper. I closed my fist around it and said nothing. When I saw them close the door, I turned to Marco.

He was getting up too, saying he didn’t want to stay if my friends were leaving. I told him he could stay if he felt like it, that I wasn’t in any hurry. He sat back down without needing to be asked twice, which seemed like a good sign to me.

He suggested playing cards, but with a twist: whoever lost had to take off a piece of clothing. I hesitated for a moment, not because I didn’t want to, but because I felt the game was revealing too much, too soon, of what I already knew I wanted. But I agreed.

We decided socks and sneakers counted as a single item and started playing. I won the first two hands. Marco took off his sneakers and socks together and put them on the table like a trophy, with a gesture so theatrical it made me laugh. Then he won two in a row and I did the same.

When I beat him in the third hand, he took off his pants. He was left in tight briefs and a T-shirt, leaning against the back of the sofa with a calm I envied. A bulge stood out against the fabric and I couldn’t help looking at it a second too long. He was already hard; you could see the outline of his cock pressed sideways against the elastic. My mouth went dry. I was shaking inside even as I tried to hide it.

I lost the next one and took off my T-shirt. I had a black bra underneath, and although I felt a little embarrassed, I realized not that much. I liked the way he looked at me. Not in a crude way, but like someone who sees something he likes and doesn’t try to hide it. His eyes went straight to my tits and stayed there longer than he himself intended.

I lost again and took off my pants. I stayed in my underwear, black panties matching the bra, sitting across from him on the sofa, trying to keep my expression from betraying that my heart was beating twice as fast as normal. I could already feel my panties wet, properly soaked, and I was terrified that he’d notice and at the same time I was dying for him to notice.

But then I won two hands in a row.

Marco took off his T-shirt first. He had a good body, not in an exaggerated way, but in the way of someone who exercises without obsession. Broad shoulders, a flat stomach, a line of dark hair running down from his navel and disappearing under the waistband of his briefs. Then he grabbed the briefs and hesitated for a second.

—Here goes —he said, and pulled them down.

His cock sprang upward, hard, thick, bigger than I’d expected. The head swollen, shiny, with a clear drop peeking out at the tip. A small sound escaped my throat that I tried to cover with a cough. He was bright red all the way to his ears, which seemed more honest to me than anything else he could have done. And I, without thinking too much, decided the card game was over.

—I think I won —I said.

—What do you want as a prize? —he asked, his voice a little husky.

—A kiss.

He got up from the sofa, cock pointing straight at me, and came over. He leaned down slowly, giving me time to back away if I wanted. I didn’t back away.

The kiss started soft and changed rhythm without either of us deciding it. His hands found my waist, then my back, and slid down to grab my ass with both hands over my panties. He squeezed. I moaned into his mouth without meaning to. Mine, his shoulders, then his chest, and one of them, almost on its own, dropped to find the hard cock between us. I wrapped my fingers around it. It was hot, hard as stone under very thin skin. Marco let out a gasp against my mouth. We broke apart for a moment to breathe, and neither of us spoke. I think neither of us knew what to say that wouldn’t be worse than silence.

***

I don’t remember exactly how we went from the living room to my bedroom. I only know that when I realized it, we were sitting on the edge of my bed and he was unclasping my bra with a clumsiness I found more reassuring than any skill. He was just as inexperienced as I was, and that changed everything.

—I need to tell you something —I said.

—Tell me.

—I’ve never fucked.

He went still for a moment, his hands still on my back.

—Me neither —he replied.

I don’t know whether I expected that to change anything. It didn’t change anything, except that we both breathed a little slower and relaxed.

The bra fell to the floor and his eyes locked on my bare tits for the first time. I lay back and he moved beside me. He lowered his head and took one nipple into his mouth. He sucked it hungrily, first one, then the other, nibbling at them with his lips, gently tugging with his teeth. I arched my back. No one had ever touched me like that. My nipples got so hard they hurt, and every tug sent a jolt straight to my pussy.

—Fuck —I whispered, and my own voice surprised me.

His hands moved over my body with care, as if he were learning something he wanted to remember. One slid to the waistband of my panties and stopped, asking permission without words. I lifted my hips a little. He pulled the fabric and slipped them down my legs. I ended up completely naked in front of him, open, and instead of feeling ashamed I felt heat between my legs that made me spread them even wider.

His hand moved slowly down my stomach and reached my pussy. His fingers found my clit almost by chance and I shuddered all over. He started rubbing me awkwardly, in circles, and even though he didn’t really know what he was doing, the very fact that it was his hand touching me there had me on the edge. He slipped a finger in. I was so wet it went in without resistance. Then a second. He moved them slowly, searching, and I closed my eyes and let him do it.

—You’re soaked —he murmured, almost to himself.

—Keep going —I begged.

He lowered his head, kissing my stomach, then the insides of my thighs. When his mouth reached my pussy, I held my breath. What he did wasn’t clumsy. It was slow, attentive, responding to what I did without me having to say anything. He stuck out his tongue and licked me from bottom to top, long and slow, and I let out a moan that echoed through the whole room. He repeated the motion, with more pressure this time, and paused at my clit to suck it between his lips. He slipped his fingers in again while he ate me out. I tangled my hands in his hair and pushed his face harder into my pussy without being able to help myself. I stayed like that for several minutes, my legs trembling, feeling something build in my stomach that I’d never felt like this before.

—Wait —I panted—, stop, stop or I’m gonna come already.

He lifted his head, his mouth and chin shining with my wetness. He smiled. He stayed there for a second, looking at me from between my legs, and I’ll never forget that image as long as I live.

—Come here —I begged, and sat up a little—. I want to taste you too.

He lay back and I knelt beside him. His cock was still hard, pointing at the ceiling, throbbing every few seconds. I took it in my hand, clumsily, not really knowing how much pressure to use. I moved it up and down a couple of times and he let out a long gasp. I leaned in and ran my tongue over the head, tasting. It tasted like skin, sweat, that clear drop still beading at the tip. I took it into my mouth. Not all of it, I couldn’t, but I took as much as I could and started sucking him the way I’d seen in some video I’d secretly watched. He groaned and put a hand on the back of my neck, not pushing, just stroking my hair.

—Fuck, Sofía, like that, like that —he panted.

I sucked him for a while, moving my head up and down, learning how to coordinate my tongue and lips, helping myself with my hand at the base. I could feel his cock getting even harder in my mouth, thicker, and it turned me on like crazy to have that power over him. After a few minutes he gently pulled me away by the head.

—Stop, stop, if you keep going I’m gonna come —he said.

I looked up and smiled.

—Sure? —he asked, searching my eyes.

—Yes.

I took the condom from the pocket of the pants on the floor beside the bed. He opened it carefully, unhurriedly, and rolled it on, tugging the latex down to the base. This is really happening, I thought. It’s happening and I’m not scared at all.

I lay back and opened my legs for him. He positioned himself between them and grabbed his cock with his hand to guide it. He rubbed the head against my soaked pussy a couple of times, up and down, and that alone made me moan. Then he rested the tip at my entrance and pushed slowly.

The first penetration was slow. There was some pain, but not the brutal kind some of my friends had described. It was more a strong pressure, a feeling of being opened little by little, which eased as he stopped every time my breathing changed or I tensed my shoulders. I felt his cock entering centimeter by centimeter, filling me in a way I couldn’t have imagined. He asked me twice if I was okay. Both times I said yes, and it was true.

When he was all the way in, he stayed still for a moment, propped on his elbows over me. I could feel every throb of his cock inside my pussy. I found his mouth and we kissed deeply while I got used to having him like that, buried all the way to the hilt.

—Move —I whispered in his ear.

He started fucking me slowly, almost pulling all the way out and then sliding back in fully, a slow, deep rhythm. The pain became something else. A new sensation I wanted to explore calmly, a heat that grew each time he came back in. I focused on the weight of his body over mine, on the warmth of his chest against my tits, on his breathing growing more uneven beside my ear, on the wet sound my pussy made receiving him.

—Harder —I asked, surprised by myself.

He sped up a little. The thrusts became firmer, drier. The headboard started tapping gently against the wall. I dug my nails into his shoulders and wrapped my legs around his hips to pull him deeper.

***

Halfway through, I changed position. I pushed his shoulder and he understood without needing words. He slipped out of me and lay back, his shiny cock pointing at the ceiling. I straddled him, grabbed his cock with my hand, and guided it to my entrance. I lowered myself slowly, impaling myself on it, and let out a long moan as I felt it go in like that, under its own weight, much deeper than before.

I looked down at him for a second before starting to move. It was different. I had more control; I could regulate the rhythm myself. I started moving forward and back, then up and down, riding him. My tits bounced in front of his face and he reached up to grab them, to pinch my nipples between his fingers. He held my hips, not to direct me but to accompany me, and every now and then he slid his hands down to grab my ass and squeeze hard.

—Fuck, you’re so tight —he gasped.

—You like it?

—It drives me crazy.

I sped up. I started riding him fast, with my hands on his chest for balance, feeling his whole cock entering and leaving me. With every drop down, my clit hit his pubic bone and it was like a little electric shock added to the one before.

So this was it, I thought. This was what all my friends were trying to explain and I never quite understood.

When he noticed I was close, something changed in the way he moved. He grabbed my hips firmly and started thrusting from below, slower, deeper, paying attention to every reaction from me. He lowered one hand and found my clit with his thumb, rubbing it in circles in time with his thrusts.

—Marco, Marco, fuck, like that, like that —I started moaning, unable to keep quiet.

The orgasm hit me all at once, without me actively seeking it, with an intensity that surprised me and took me a few seconds to recognize for what it was. My pussy clenched in spasms around his cock and I collapsed forward, onto his chest, face buried in his neck, trembling all over. He held me tight and kept thrusting from below, stretching out my orgasm until I could barely stand it.

Soon after, with two or three more thrusts and a hoarse growl against my ear, he came too. I felt his cock throbbing inside me through the condom, felt him empty himself in several shudders. He went still, hands on my back, breathing hard.

We lay there in silence, staring at the ceiling, him still inside me, his cock slowly softening. Not an awkward silence. One of those silences where there’s no need to say anything because everything important has already been said some other way.

—How are you? —he asked after a while.

—Good —I replied—. Very good, actually.

He laughed a little. So did I. We both laughed without exactly knowing why, which is the best kind of laughter there is.

***

Before leaving, Marco sat on the edge of the bed and asked if I wanted to hang out the following weekend. He didn’t say “to do it again” or anything like that. Just “hang out,” as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

—Yes —I said—. I’d really like that.

We shared a long kiss at the door. When I closed it and leaned against the wood, I realized I was smiling without having decided to, and that I could still feel his cock inside me even though it wasn’t there anymore.

I called Daniela. She answered on the first ring, which meant she’d been waiting.

—How was it? —she asked before I said anything.

—Good —I said—. Thanks for the condom.

She laughed so hard I had to pull the phone away from my ear. When she spoke again, she asked me if Marco and I were going to meet up again. I told her yes, at the weekend.

—About time, Sofía —she said again, in the same tone as before.

I didn’t argue. She was right.