When Mateo Left, Iván Came Looking for Me

The sun came through the cabin window when we went out for a walk. Mateo, Iván, and I went down the trail to the creek, and the cold mountain air helped clear my head. Whatever Iván had rolled for us to smoke the night before had left me in a strange state for hours, as if I were floating inside a cloud that never quite dispersed.

When we got back, we ate what Iván had made. 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 on their own. I said goodnight, left my plate in the sink, and dragged myself up to the bedroom, shuffling my feet on the wooden steps.

I must have slept through the whole afternoon. Every so often I woke to a distant noise—a laugh downstairs, the creak of the floor, the wind in the pines—and then I’d sink 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, with their cocks in my mouth, in my hands, in my ass. In the dream I could feel the weight of their bodies, the warmth of their breath sliding down my neck, the thrusts, the kisses shared between the two of them. It was such a vivid dream that my body responded without my being able to stop it, just like the night before.

***

At some point I was left suspended in that limbo where sleep and wakefulness blur together. I was face down 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, careful not to wake me.

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

What a way to wake up, I thought.

I smiled in silence. The hands kept stroking me, accompanied by slow kisses—on my legs, on my cheeks, on my back, on my shoulders. My breathing began to quicken. I felt warm breath brush my nape, then parted lips licking slowly along the curve of my neck. His body pressed against mine. His chest against my back. His pelvis against my ass.

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

He leaned into my ear and whispered before I’d fully understood it.

“Mateo left. Something urgent came up. He asked me to let you know,” Iván said, his voice rough against my ear. “Now you’re mine.”

My skin prickled from my nape all the way to my heels. My breath caught. My body stopped belonging to me in that exact second.

***

Iván threaded his fingers through mine over 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 lifted my hips, opened my legs a little wider, offered him what he already knew he was going to take whether I said anything or not.

He worked his way down my back kiss by kiss. Every vertebra, every hollow between my ribs, until he reached the end. He spread my cheeks apart with both hands and began to lick my hole with a patience I hadn’t expected. Long, slow, deep. The moans slipped out against the pillow as if they belonged to someone else. My hands clenched the sheets, gripping them so hard they wrinkled 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 was waking in me without asking permission.

He spat a couple of times on my entrance and lined himself up. I felt the head of his cock press against the muscle, pushing calmly, without forcing it. Then he let himself fall in. His weight sank me into the mattress as his cock entered little by little, millimeter by millimeter. I felt like I was going to split in two. Pain and pleasure hit me at the same time, in equal parts, fighting over me.

His mouth came back to my ear.

“I’m going to wreck your ass and you’re going to beg me not to stop,” he told me.

“Yes, please,” I answered in a whisper. “Fuck me, Iván.”

***

The pain began to ease. His cock settled inside me, my body gave in, and what was left was a strange, complete sensation, as if that hole had been waiting for him since the afternoon before. My whole body was surrendered to him.

I turned my head a little, looking for his mouth. I was dying for him to kiss me, to bite my lip, to feel his tongue. But Iván wouldn’t give it to me. His big hand clamped over my nape 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 hadn’t quite surrendered yet, when Iván started fucking me mercilessly. One hand on my nape against the pillow, the other trapping my right wrist against the sheet, and his hips slamming into me with a rhythm that gave nothing a chance to breathe.

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

I could hear the sound of Iván’s body crashing against mine, that sharp slap of pubis against ass that is the most obscene music there is. I could hear his ragged breathing behind me. I could hear my own cries muffled against the pillowcase.

“Fuck, yes, Iván, yes, yes, yes,” I moaned without thinking.

My hole was already completely open, slick, ready. There was only pleasure. The heat, the blows, his groans behind me. I felt a shiver born deep in my belly, dropping to my balls and then surging up my cock. Drops of semen began soaking the sheet beneath me without my even touching myself once.

***

Iván suddenly let go of my nape. He grabbed my hip, turned me over, and pinned my wrists to the bed again, now on my back. My legs opened on their own. There wasn’t a single fiber in my body that wanted to resist him.

He leaned over me and kissed me hungrily. His tongue played with mine, his teeth nipped my lower lip, my mouth sought his as if I couldn’t breathe. He moved down to my neck, bit, licked, left marks I’d have to hide the next day with the collar of my hoodie. He spat into his hand, stroked his cock, and shoved it back into my throbbing ass.

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

“You’re beautiful. You drive me insane. I want you to be mine,” he told me slowly, with a sweetness that didn’t match what was happening between us.

Something shifted inside me. My body pulsed against his. I lifted my legs and wrapped them around his waist, slid my arms around the back of his neck, buried my face in his shoulder, and traced his neck with my mouth and my 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 pressed to 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 shoved it back in to the hilt, over and over, while I held him to 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 centimeters off the bed and dropped me back down onto his cock, and I cried out with pleasure every time the удар hit me deep inside.

Somewhere in the back of my head, while he was fucking me, I was thanking Mateo for having left. I hadn’t stopped fantasizing about this moment since the second I crossed the cabin door and saw Iván sitting on the sofa, legs spread and that look in his eyes that already told me everything. It was a desire I had denied myself for weeks, repressed because Iván woke something in me I hadn’t known I had: a violence, a need to surrender, a submission I had never felt with Mateo. And I wanted 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 told me through gritted teeth. “My little bitch.”

“I’m going to come,” I answered, moaning.

“Do it. Come for me.”

The heat exploded inside me. My mouth sought his skin to bite his shoulder while I felt him emptying inside me, his cum filling my ass, mine spurting in jets between our pressed-together bellies. A burst of pleasure devoured us both at the same time.

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

***

We fell asleep like that, wrapped around each other, in the silence that follows a hurricane. The calm after the storm. And as I sank back into sleep, I knew that when Mateo came back I would have to look him in the eye and lie, or I would have to tell him everything. But that decision could wait until morning.