I Seduce My Friend’s Girlfriend on My Birthday

The best day of the year for me is always my birthday. I wake up with a different kind of energy, as if the world owes me something good and is ready to pay up. Messages and calls start coming in early, and every single one puts me in a better mood. I’m the kind of person who has a lot of friends, the kind who loves being surrounded by people, and there’s nothing I enjoy more than filling my house with voices and music.

That year the party fell on a Friday, so there were no excuses. I didn’t send out invitations; my friends already know that on that day we dance until the sun comes up. Everyone could bring whoever they wanted, and that was exactly what I liked most: new people coming through the door, unfamiliar faces, possibilities. I’m curious by nature, and curiosity, when you’re single by choice, turns into something else.

Because that’s what I am: single because I want to be. I like sex with people I’ve only just met, that tension of not knowing anything about the other person and wanting to know everything with my hands. I’m not ashamed to say it. I know how to move, I know how to talk, I know how to look, and almost always I get what I’m after. That night wasn’t going to be any different, even if I still didn’t know who I was going to want.

By eleven the house was packed. I had hired a girl to play electronic music, my favorite, and between the rented lights and the smoke machine it looked like a real club. The aguardiente kept flowing, my friends arrived with bottles in hand, and I went from group to group, toasting, laughing, letting myself be introduced to strangers. I was in my element.

And then she walked in.

I saw her come through the door on Damián’s arm, one of my oldest friends, and my conversation cut off halfway through a sentence. She had a different kind of beauty, the kind that doesn’t fit any mold. Cinnamon skin, large slanted coffee-colored eyes, a huge mouth with full lips that stuck out a little because of the braces and gave her an air that was part innocent, part shameless. Average height, with firm hips, wearing a white tank top that hinted at her breasts and jeans that clung to her like a second skin.

I didn’t waste a second. I went straight to Damián, hugged him, and asked him in his ear who she was.

—My girlfriend, Bianca —he told me proudly—. She’s been asking me for weeks to bring her to one of your parties.

His girlfriend. I should have stopped right there. I didn’t.

—Nice to meet you —I told Bianca, taking her hand—. Come on, the aguardiente table is over there, and I don’t just introduce that to anyone.

I took them both over to the liquor, but Damián was quickly called away by the others, and I was left with her. We clicked from the very first sentence. She had an easy laugh, she answered with wit, and every time she leaned in to hear me over the music I took advantage of it to move a little closer, to breathe in the scent of her neck, to brush her arm like it was an accident.

—Do you dance? —I asked her, and before she could answer I already had her by the hand, heading for the dance floor.

The music was so loud there was no choice but to talk into each other’s ears, and that suited me perfectly. I moved slowly in front of her, put my hands on her waist, felt her hips follow my rhythm. Every time a friend came over to hand me a drink, I passed one to her too. I loosened her up, glass by glass, until she seemed looser, more playful, more mine.

—You’re the prettiest woman at the party —I whispered in her ear, and felt her shiver.

—You’re not exactly far behind —she answered, not pulling away.

Damián came over a couple of times, with no bad intentions, just to make sure she wasn’t alone. I smiled at him and told him we were talking girl stuff, to give us a little time. He suspected nothing; he trusted me, his girlfriend, the night. He went back to the others and left me free rein.

***

I took her out to the balcony under the excuse of getting some air. Outside, the noise was muffled and we could talk without shouting. I took her face in my hands and looked into her eyes.

—I want to kiss you —I confessed—. Can I?

She didn’t say anything. She just nodded slowly, biting her lip. I kissed her, and it was a long kiss, one that didn’t break at the first touch. When we pulled apart, we were both breathing differently.

—Do you want to see my room? —I asked, throwing everything on one sentence.

—Sure —she answered, and that one word lit me up.

I grabbed a bottle from the table, took her by the hand, and led her through the crowd to my bedroom. I closed the door and the party’s noise stayed on the other side, turned into a dull heartbeat. We sat on the bed, kept drinking, and I kept making her laugh. She was delighted, you could tell by the way she leaned toward me.

I kissed her again and this time there was no pause. I lowered my mouth to her neck and heard her let out her first moan, soft, husky, and I knew there was no turning back. I slid my fingers into her hair, kissed her deeper, slipped my hand into her neckline, and stroked her nipples through the fabric. She answered by pressing my breasts against my dress, never stopping kissing me.

I pulled off her shirt in one gentle tug. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. I explored her breasts with my fingers before tasting them, wet my fingertips in my mouth and ran them over her hardened nipples. She was moaning softly, eyes half-closed, and every sound she made turned me on more.

—Does that feel good? —I asked her.

—So good —she murmured—. I’m shaking.

I lowered my mouth to her breasts and let my tongue travel over them, all of them, not just the nipples. Meanwhile I undid the button on her jeans and started pulling them down with some effort, because they fit her like they’d been painted on. When I finally saw her in her underwear, I had to stop for a second and look at her. She had long legs, a firm body, skin that was practically begging to be touched.

She returned the favor. She lowered the zipper of my dress, slipped it off my shoulders, unclasped my bra. I ended up half naked in front of her, and by the way she looked at me I knew she was just as lost as I was.

—You’re too beautiful —I told her, laying her on her back and climbing on top of her.

—I want you to touch me everywhere —she begged, her voice breaking.

***

I started slowly. I traced her neck with my tongue, top to bottom, without rushing, and felt her arch. I went down her entire body, paused at her belly, and nipped lightly at her hip. By the time I reached the inner part of her thighs, she was already writhing and pushing toward my mouth without meaning to.

—I really want to taste you —I told her, looking up at her from below—. Do you want that?

—Yes, please —she answered, almost breathless—. I’m very sensitive, be careful.

I moved her underwear aside and opened her legs. I didn’t go straight in. First I ran my tongue all along the outline, moved upward, made her wait, and when I finally touched her where she needed it most, she jerked and gave a short cry. Outside, the music swallowed any sound; she could scream as much as she wanted.

I began gently, attentive to every reaction. I parted her with my fingers and penetrated her slowly while I licked her, measuring the rhythm by her moans. When I found the exact spot, I knew it: her body tightened around my fingers and she buried her hands in the sheets.

—Don’t stop —she begged me—. I’m going to come.

I didn’t stop. I kept going, without changing the rhythm, without letting her go, watching her face as she came apart. She bit her lip, clenched her fists, curled her toes. Then her whole body tensed all at once, went rigid for one endless second, and she came with a long tremor that didn’t let go until I decided to stop.

When she was breathing calmly again, I sucked my fingers in front of her and brought them to her mouth so she could taste. She did it without hesitation, with a look that set me on fire.

—You can’t imagine how good you made me feel —she told me.

—I loved your taste —I answered—. Do you want to try mine?

—I’ve never done it with a woman before —she confessed, biting her lip—. But I want to.

—There’s always a first time —I said, and that line made both of us laugh.

***

I lay on my back and she climbed on top of me, still awkward, still learning. She kissed my neck, sucked on my breasts, and went lower with a mix of shyness and desire that drove me crazy. When she reached between my legs, she paused for a moment, as if recognizing new territory, and that hesitation excited me more than any caress.

Then she put her tongue where I wanted it most, and even though it was her first time, she didn’t need any instructions. She went back and forth, tasting, realizing what I liked by the way I breathed. I looked into her eyes and she held my gaze, and that, that complicity between two women discovering each other, was what finally pushed me over the edge.

She started fingering me while she kept using her mouth, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. I grabbed her head, pressed her against me, and came with one of the strongest orgasms I remember, long, intense, the kind that leaves you shaking for a good while. When I finally let her go, I pulled her up to my face and kissed her slowly.

—Did you like it? —she asked me, with a new smile.

—You made me come like only a few times in my life —I answered, and it was true.

I don’t know how much time had passed. The music was still playing on the other side of the door, oblivious to everything. I thought about Damián, who by then was probably looking for her, and for a moment I felt guilty. Just for a moment.

We got dressed, fixed our hair as best we could, took one last drink from the bottle, and went back out to the party as if nothing had happened. I danced again, toasted again, became the hostess I always am. But every time Bianca and I caught each other’s eyes in the crowd, we both knew that had been, by far, the best birthday present I had ever been given.