When Mateo Left, Iván Came to Find Me

The sun was streaming through the cabin window when we went out for a walk. Mateo, Iván, and I headed down the trail toward the stream, and the cold mountain air helped clear my head. What Iván had rolled for us to smoke the night before had left me for hours in a strange state, as though I were floating on a cloud that never quite dissipated.

When we got back, we ate what Iván had prepared. He was an excellent cook, much better than any of the three of us would have imagined, and the food sat so well with me that my eyes closed without my meaning them to. I said goodnight, left my plate in the sink, and trudged upstairs, dragging my feet over the wooden steps.

I must have slept all afternoon. Every so often I woke to a distant noise—a laugh from downstairs, the creaking of the floor, the wind moving through the pines—and fell back into a thick, sweet sleep that pulled me inward like a current.

I dreamed about the night before. About Mateo and Iván on top of me, their cocks in my mouth, in my hands, in my ass. In the dream I could feel the weight of their bodies, the heat of their breath running down my neck, their thrusts, the kisses shared between them. It was such a vivid dream that my body responded without my being able to stop it, just as it had the night before.

***

At some point I found myself suspended in that limbo where sleep and wakefulness blur together. I was lying facedown on the mattress, wearing one of Mateo’s T-shirts, three sizes too big, and nothing else. The room was dark and smelled of damp wood. My cock was half-hard from everything I’d been dreaming, trapped between my body and the sheet.

Then I felt the weight. Someone had just climbed onto the bed, slowly, carefully, so as not to wake me.

Hands moved up my legs from my ankles. They traveled over my calves and thighs, slipped beneath the T-shirt, and grabbed my ass hard, squeezing it in a way that made me sigh into the pillow. Those same hands lifted the fabric. I helped a little, raising my torso just enough for him to pull it over my head, then tossed it aside without opening my eyes.

What a way to wake up, I thought.

I smiled silently. The hands kept caressing me, accompanied by unhurried kisses—on my legs, my buttocks, my back, my shoulders. My breathing began to quicken. I felt warm breath sweep across the nape of my neck, then parted lips slowly licking the curve of my throat. His body pressed against mine. His chest against my back. His pelvis against my ass.

I was about to say his name. I was going to say, “Mateo, fuck me,” but something stopped me cold. One hand far too large on my waist. A chest far too broad against my shoulder blades. And above all, that rock-hard cock pressed against my lower back, which definitely was not Mateo’s cock.

He leaned close to my ear and whispered it before I had fully understood.

—Mateo left. Something urgent came up. He asked me to let you know—Iván said, his hoarse voice against my ear. —You’re mine now.

Gooseflesh rose from the nape of my neck to my heels. My breath caught. In that exact second, my body stopped belonging to me.

***

Iván laced his fingers through mine on top of the sheet. He kissed my neck again while rubbing his hard cock against my ass, slowly, unhurriedly, setting a rhythm. My body responded on its own: I raised my hips, spread my legs a little farther, offered him what he already knew he was going to take, whether I said anything or not.

He moved down my back, kiss by kiss. Every vertebra, every hollow between my ribs, until he reached the bottom. He spread my cheeks with both hands and began licking my asshole with a patience I hadn’t expected. Long, slow, deep. Moans escaped me into the pillow as though they belonged to someone else. My hands closed around the sheets, gripping them so hard they bunched up beneath me.

I didn’t want to run. I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted to be exactly there, body and soul, a slave to the pleasure Iván awakened in me without asking permission.

He spat a couple of times onto my entrance and positioned himself. I felt the head of his cock resting against the muscle, pressing calmly, without forcing. Then he let himself drop. His weight sank me into the mattress as his cock entered little by little, millimeter by millimeter. I felt as though he were going to split me in two. Pain and pleasure reached me at the same time, in equal measure, fighting over me.

His mouth returned to my ear.

—I’m going to wreck your ass, and you’re going to beg me not to stop—he said.

—Yes, please—I answered in a thread of a voice. —Fuck me, Iván.

***

The pain began to ease. His cock settled inside me, my body surrendered, and what remained was a strange, complete sensation, as though that hollow had been waiting for him since the previous afternoon. My entire body was given over to him.

I turned my head slightly, searching for his mouth. I was dying for him to kiss me, to bite his lip, to feel his tongue. But Iván would not grant me that. His large hand closed around the back of my neck and pressed my face firmly into the mattress. It hurt. And it turned me on even more.

Then the punishment began. I was still recovering from the pain of the night before, my hole not yet fully surrendered, when Iván began thrusting into me mercilessly. One hand held the back of my neck against the pillow, the other pinned my right wrist to the sheet, and his hips struck me with a rhythm that gave nothing a chance to catch its breath.

It hurt. But I liked it in a way I couldn’t explain. It wasn’t unbearable pain. It was intense, brutal, and pure pleasure at the same time.

I heard Iván’s body striking mine, that dry smack of pubis against buttocks that is the most obscene music there is. I heard his ragged breathing behind me. I heard my own muffled cries against the pillowcase.

—Fuck, yes, Iván, yes, yes, yes—I moaned without thinking.

My asshole was completely open by then, lubricated, ready. There was nothing but pleasure. The heat, the blows, his moans behind me. I felt a tingling begin deep in my belly, travel down to my balls, then shoot up my cock. Drops of semen began wetting the sheet beneath me even though I hadn’t touched myself once.

***

Iván suddenly released the back of my neck. He grabbed me by the hips, turned me over, and pinned my wrists to the bed again, this time with me on my back. My legs opened on their own. There wasn’t a single fiber in my body that wanted to resist him.

He bent over me and kissed me hungrily. His tongue played with mine, his teeth bit my lower lip, and my mouth sought his as though I couldn’t breathe. He moved down to my neck, bit and licked me, leaving marks I would have to hide the next day with the collar of my sweatshirt. He spat into his hand, rubbed his cock, and pushed it back into my throbbing ass.

This time, once he was inside, he stayed completely still. He looked down at me. He gave me a small kiss on one cheek, then the other, then one eyelid, then the other. With two fingers, he brushed a lock of hair from my forehead.

—You’re beautiful. You make me so damn horny. I want you to be mine—he said slowly, with a tenderness that didn’t fit with what was happening between us.

Something shifted inside me. My body throbbed against his. I raised my legs and wrapped them around his waist, slipped my arms behind his neck, buried my face in his shoulder, and traced his neck with my mouth and tongue. Then I found his lips and kissed him as if I wanted to swallow him whole.

—I’m yours, Iván—I whispered with my mouth against his. —Whenever you want, however you want. Body and soul. Fuck me.

***

And he fucked me. He pulled his cock almost all the way out and drove it back in to the hilt, again and again, while I held him against me with my legs and arms. He slipped one arm beneath my head and wrapped the other around my waist. He lifted me a few inches off the bed and let me fall onto his cock, and I screamed with pleasure every time the impact reached deep inside me.

In the back of my mind, while he pounded into me, I thanked Mateo for leaving. I had been fantasizing about this moment ever since I crossed the cabin’s threshold and saw Iván sitting on the sofa, legs spread and wearing that look that already told me everything. It was a desire I had denied for weeks, repressed because Iván awakened something in me I hadn’t known I possessed: a violence, a need to surrender, a submission I had never felt with Mateo. And I loved Mateo. That was why I kept it to myself.

Iván kept going. His thrusts became deeper, slower, more obscene.

—You make me so fucking horny—he said through his teeth. —My fucking dog.

—I’m going to come—I answered, moaning.

—Do it. Come for me.

Heat exploded inside me. My mouth sought his skin so I could bite his shoulder as I felt him empty himself inside me, his semen filling my ass, mine spurting between our pressed-together bellies. An eruption of pleasure devoured us both at the same time.

We stayed there, panting and sweating, two pieces of meat still burning on the unmade bed. Iván rested his forehead against my neck without pulling out, and I stroked his back with my open palm as I tried to catch my breath.

***

We fell asleep like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, in the silence left behind by a hurricane. The calm that comes after the storm. And as I sank into sleep once more, I knew that when Mateo returned I would have to look him in the eyes and lie, or tell him everything. But that decision could wait until morning.