My academic adviser met me at a lookout at sunset

After that first Wednesday, something had broken between us, and neither of us wanted to fix it. I kept going to her advising sessions every week, in the same small office on the faculty’s second floor, but they were no longer what they had been. We talked more, we wrote to each other in the afternoons, and during breaks she would leave her office and sit with me on the same bench in the courtyard. To anyone passing by, we were just a student and her adviser talking about enrollment and deadlines. Only we knew what was really passing through the air every time our knees brushed.

Her name was Mariana, and she had worked at the university’s advising center for years. She had that calm of someone who has learned to wait, and a way of looking at me over the rim of her coffee cup that left me without arguments. I was twenty-three and thought I knew everything about myself until she started proving me wrong with every silence.

One Friday afternoon a message from her arrived. She wanted us to meet, off campus this time. I read it three times before replying, my heart pounding in my throat. I wrote back that there was a park near my house where we could meet, and I sent her directions so she could find me. She answered right away with an exact time and a “I’ll be there” that I reread more times than I’d admit.

There was still a while to go, so I showered unhurriedly and got ready thinking about her. I chose a skirt I almost never wore and stared at myself in the mirror for too long. Before leaving I told my mother I was going to a friend’s house, a few streets from ours, and that I’d be back a little late. She gave me permission without taking her eyes off the television. Lying came more easily than I expected, and that scared me a little.

When I saw her car parked by the park, I walked as fast as I could without breaking into a run. I opened the door, got in, and fastened my seat belt with clumsy fingers. It was the first time we’d be together in a place that wasn’t the university, and my nerves were knotting my stomach. She leaned in and kissed me on the lips, briefly, like someone sealing something. I could only smile.

—I’m taking you somewhere near my house —she said, starting the car.

—Okay —I answered, my voice steadier than I felt inside.

—I really wanted to see you. I didn’t find a single break to come by the courtyard today, and I missed you all afternoon.

—Me too —I admitted—. I saw you were really busy and didn’t want to bother you.

—You never bother me. —She took her eyes off the road for a second and fixed them on me—. I did have a lot of work, it’s true. But I’m going to make it up to you tonight. I’ve spent the whole day thinking about how I’m going to eat your cunt.

A soft gasp escaped me, and I pressed my thighs together without realizing it. She smiled without taking her eyes off the asphalt, perfectly aware of the effect her words had on me every time she spoke like that.

The drive felt eternal and far too short at the same time. We talked about nonsense, about a film we had both seen, about how bad her car freshener smelled, and between sentences her hand would leave the gearshift to rest for a moment on my knee, inching higher each time, slipping under my skirt to brush the inside of my thigh. We arrived at a quiet residential area, were let through at the gate, and she drove along silent streets to a sort of lookout at the top. It was empty. From there, the houses lay far below, like a map of lights, and we were up above, far from everything and everyone.

She turned off the engine and unbuckled.

—Back there —she said.

We both got out and settled into the back seats, leaving the doors ajar so the cool evening air could come in as dusk fell. I knew no one would see us or hear us. The height gave us a freedom we would never have had on campus, and that certainty loosened something in my chest.

—You’re gorgeous —she murmured, eyes traveling over me—. Did you put on that skirt for me?

—Yes —I confessed, feeling the heat rise to my face—. I thought you’d like it. You look really pretty too.

—Thank you. —She patted her thighs twice—. Come here. I want you close.

I didn’t hesitate. I straddled her lap and she slid her hands under my skirt, stroking me slowly, tracing lazy circles that made my skin prickle. Her fingers climbed the inside of my thighs and hooked the elastic of my panties, moving them aside without taking them off yet. When her middle finger slid between my already wet folds, we both moaned at once.

—Fuck, you’re soaked —she whispered against my mouth—. Soaked. All for me.

—I’ve been wet since you texted me —I confessed, and it wasn’t a lie.

I pressed my mouth to hers and the kiss stopped being tentative and turned voracious, tongues braided together, bites on the lower lip. While she kissed me, she began dragging her finger up and down my cunt, not going inside, teasing me, always stopping just before my clit. I pushed my hips forward looking for more, and she laughed softly against my lips.

—Ask me for it.

—Finger me, please —I panted—. Finger me now.

She slipped one finger into me and then another, all the way to the hilt, and started fucking my hand with a slow, deep rhythm that bent me over her. My hands found the buttons of her blouse and I undid them faster than I meant to. I pulled one cup of her bra down and took a nipple in my mouth, sucking hard, biting, while her fingers kept going in and out of my cunt. Her lips moved down my jaw to my neck, where she left a row of wet kisses and a hickey that made me close my eyes.

I felt the first throb between my legs, a pulse that turned into heat, into wetness. I slid my hand under the waistband of her pants, pushed my fingers inside her panties, and found her cunt so wet that the mere touch tore a sigh out of me. Her clit was swollen, hard, and when I rubbed it with the pad of my finger she let her head fall back and let out a rough moan that drove me crazy.

—Take your clothes off —she asked, and it wasn’t a harsh command but something lower, hotter, that left no room for doubt—. I want to see all of you.

I obeyed. I stripped off my skirt, my top, my bra and my wet panties, and ended up naked on the back seat while she took off her pants and panties with a calm that made me even more nervous. She left her blouse open, her breasts bare, and that image—half-dressed, looking at me like she was going to devour me—tightened everything inside me.

She had me recline on the seat, spread my legs with both hands, and settled herself between them. Before touching me, she just looked at my parted cunt for a long second.

—Look at how wet you are. All shiny.

Then she lowered her mouth without warning. Her tongue swept up my cunt from bottom to top, flat, broad, licking me all over, and I let out a scream that echoed inside the car. She started sucking my clit with an intensity I didn’t have time to get used to, alternating long licks with short sucks, sinking her tongue into me and pulling it out to go back up again. I buried my hands in her hair and pulled her against me, shamelessly pushing her face, hearing myself ask for more in a voice I didn’t recognize.

—Like that, like that, don’t stop, please, keep going, fuck, keep going.

She answered by sliding two fingers into me again while still sucking my clit, and that double assault made my whole body arch. Her fingers were fucking me fast, curling inside, searching for that spot she already knew by heart, and every time she brushed it I saw lights.

—I’m going to come —I warned her—. I’m going to come in your mouth.

—Come —she murmured against my cunt without stopping licking—. All of it. I want to swallow everything.

And I came. I came screaming her name, squeezing her head between my thighs, soaking her mouth and chin, while the orgasm shook me in waves that wouldn’t quite go away. She didn’t stop. She kept licking me slowly, drinking everything that came out of me, until the trembling eased and I went limp on the seat, goosefleshed and broken-breathing.

When she lifted her face, her lips were shining and her smile knew she was guilty. She climbed over me and kissed me on the mouth, and I swallowed the taste of my own cunt from her tongue.

—Now you —I said, and pushed her down until she was reclined along the seat.

I spread her legs and lay face down between them. Her cunt was swollen, red, with her clit peeking between her lips and a thread of wetness running down to her ass. I leaned in slowly and blew on it just to see her shiver. Then I licked her all over, from bottom to top, tasting her without hurry. She tasted of salt and something else, something of her own, and I got lost there with my nose pressed into her mound and my tongue working her clit in circles.

—Yes, baby, like that —she panted, one hand in my nape and the other squeezing a breast—. Suck me hard. Suck me like you know how.

I slid two fingers into her and curled them upward while I kept sucking her clit. Her cunt clenched around me, soaking my fingers, and her hips started lifting to meet my mouth, fucking my hand herself. With my free thumb I brushed her asshole and she moaned louder, so I stayed there, pressing without pushing all the way in, playing at the edge.

—I’m going to come —she warned, voice trembling—. Put them all the way in, don’t stop.

I finger-fucked her faster, sucking her clit without rest, and felt her cunt seize in spasms around me. She came, soaking my chin, with her thighs clamped around my head, moaning so loudly that for a second I forgot we were inside a car with the doors half open. Her whole body shook and then collapsed, panting, her chest rising and falling.

I gave her no respite. I climbed over her still hot, tangled one leg with mine and lined my cunt up with hers. Both of us soaked, swollen, sliding against each other. I started moving, rubbing clit against clit, and we both moaned at once on the first pass.

—Fuck, yes —she whispered, grabbing my ass to pull me closer—. Ride me like that, scissors, don’t stop.

I braced myself and started riding her, grinding my cunt against hers in a rhythm that got faster and faster, dirtier, wetter. The sound of our two wet cunts slapping together filled the car and made me even hornier. She lifted my hands to my tits and pinched my nipples, tugging them, and I threw my head back and fucked her cunt with mine without a shred of shame.

—I’m going to come again —I panted—. I’m coming with you.

—Come with me —she answered—. Now. Right now.

She slid one hand between us and rubbed both our clits together with her fingertip, and that finished me. I came again, this time on top of her, soaking her cunt with mine, and she came underneath me, arching, biting her lip not to scream and screaming anyway. Pleasure bent me double, emptied me out, and for an instant the whole world shrank to the inside of that car at the top of the lookout, to the warm weight of her body pressed to mine and the sound of our two breaths trying to calm down.

***

Afterward we stayed still, rearranged on the seat, her arm around me and my head resting on her chest, still naked, sticky, unwilling to get dressed. Outside, the house lights twinkled and a soft wind came in through the still-ajar doors and cooled the sweat on my back.

—You were incredible —she said, stroking my hair—. I loved eating your cunt like that, having you all to myself, hearing you ask me for it. You’re so good to me.

—I promised you I always would be —I answered, tracing a line over her collarbone with my finger, still tasting her in my mouth.

—I know.

We stayed a little longer in that comfortable silence, the kind that only fits between two people who have just stopped pretending. When it really started to cool down, we got dressed amid awkward laughter, searching for a lost piece of clothing under the seat, and she passed me my soaked panties with two fingers and a slutty smile. We talked a little more, about nothing and everything, before she drove me back home so it wouldn’t get too late. On the way back her hand returned to my knee, and this time I left it there, and she moved it a little higher, to stroke my still-sensitive cunt through my skirt, smiling when I shivered.

That afternoon opened a chapter that lasted longer than either of us imagined. We saw each other several times a week, almost always away from campus, sometimes at her place when she knew she would be alone, and we fucked until we lost our voices. There were stolen afternoons, messages at odd hours, plans made up just so we could be together a little longer. What was ours lived in the margins, in what was left unsaid, and maybe that was why it burned so fiercely.

With time, as happens with almost everything, we spaced out the meetings. I finished my degree, she changed centers, and one day we simply stopped writing to each other without a formal goodbye, without a slammed door. There was no drama; just two paths that stopped crossing. Sometimes I think that discreet ending was the most honest thing we could have given each other.

I don’t regret anything. If I close my eyes I can still go back to that lookout, to the cheap smell of the air freshener, to Mariana’s weight between my legs, to her tongue inside my cunt and to the feeling of discovering, for the first time with total clarity, what I truly desired. It was one of the best experiences of my life, and I keep it all, uncut, exactly where no one can touch it.