My Cousin’s Girlfriend Kissed Me by the Pool

My uncles’ country house was the place the whole family escaped to when the city heat became unbearable. My cousin Mateo arrived that morning with Renata, his girlfriend, and it was enough just to see her get out of the car for the whole day to get scrambled inside me.

Renata had a beauty that seemed unaware of itself. Average height, fair skin, brown hair falling to the middle of her back. Freckles dotted her cheekbones and nose, giving her a childish air that contrasted with everything else: the narrow waist, the wide hips, those thighs that filled out whatever pants she wore.

“Need help with the bag?” I offered, more to have an excuse to get closer than out of courtesy.

“Thanks, you’re a sweetheart,” she said, squeezing my arm with that easy familiarity we’d built up over years of family gatherings.

Because we were friends, that was the hard part. Every time Mateo brought her home, I found a way to sit beside her, to take her hands when we talked, to stroke her hair as if by accident. We told each other almost everything. The only thing she didn’t know about me was the most important one: that I liked women and that I was completely hopeless over her.

I knew how to keep up appearances. I’d been doing it for years, smiling when they kissed in front of me, pretending not to follow her with my eyes when she bent down to pick something up. But that day, in a bikini, by the water, all my defenses started to fail.

“Pile on!” someone yelled, and the pool turned into a tangle of bodies and laughter.

I took advantage of the chaos. In the disorder of the game, my hands found her waist, brushed her back, lingered an extra second on her hips. She laughed, oblivious, splashing water in my face. I laughed too, but inside something was burning that had nothing to do with the sun.

***

We started drinking early. We spent the whole afternoon between the pool, the music, and the beers no one stopped handing around. When night fell, we lit the grill, someone put on the usual songs, and we kept drinking as if the day would never end.

After dinner, they brought out the cards. The loser drank. And Mateo lost as if he were doing it on purpose. Hand after hand, glass after glass, until his tongue got thick and his eyes closed on their own.

“We need to put him to bed,” my aunt said, amused.

“I’ll take him,” I offered right away.

I walked him to the room with a smile no one in the family understood. Every step I took carrying my drunk cousin brought me closer to what I really wanted: to be alone with Renata. I laid him on the bed, took off his shoes, checked that he was sleeping deeply. He wasn’t waking up for hours.

When I came back, almost everyone had gone. Renata was still awake, a glass in her hand, looking at the sky from the edge of the pool.

“So it’s just us,” she said, and patted the ground beside her.

I sat down. The water reflected the trembling light of the stars back at us. We talked about anything, as always, except that tonight we were both pretty tipsy and the silences were filling with a new tension.

Every now and then I tickled her and she wriggled with laughter, and I melted looking at her. In one of those moments, with my guard down because of the alcohol and the desire I’d been carrying for years, I let the question fall.

“Have you ever kissed another woman?”

Renata went still. For a second I thought I’d ruined everything.

“No,” she answered slowly, “but I’ve thought about it. Why are you asking?”

“Because out of nowhere I got a lot of urge to kiss you,” I said, and felt my heart pounding in my throat.

She looked at me hard, saying nothing. I said it, that’s it, no going back. The alcohol had loosened my tongue and now all I could do was wait for the rejection.

But she leaned in and kissed me.

It was soft, just a brush of lips, and even so I felt the ground disappear. I never imagined she would be the one to make the first move. I took her hand before she could change her mind and led her toward my room, not caring whether anyone was still awake at the house. That kiss had lit me up in a way that didn’t allow for delay.

***

I closed the door and pinned her against the wall. I kissed her again, this time without the shyness of the first one, and she answered me with a surrender I hadn’t expected. My hands started roaming over her. She had shorts over her swimsuit, nothing else; I was the same.

I slid up her legs until I slipped my hand under the fabric and squeezed her ass. God, what a body. I let my fingers travel down to her sex, still over the bikini, and pressed slowly. Renata let out her first moan against my mouth.

“Are you sure?” I asked softly, pulling back just a little.

“More sure than ever,” she answered, and came back for my lips.

I couldn’t resist finding out how badly her body wanted this. I moved the fabric aside and my fingers found a wetness that confirmed everything. I stroked her there, feeling her slip and glide, while we kept kissing without mercy. I brought my fingers to my mouth to taste her; the flavor undid me completely.

I kissed her again so she’d recognize herself on my tongue. I untied the top of her bikini and finally saw her: soft but firm breasts, with pink, hard nipples. I lowered my mouth to them, traced them slowly, sucked carefully while she tangled her fingers in my hair.

Renata undid me too and started returning every caress with tender clumsiness, discovering. She kissed my neck, licked it the way I had hers, and a shiver ran through me from head to toe.

“Do you like the way I do it?” she murmured against my skin.

“You have no idea how much,” I answered, shaking all over.

“It’s the first time I’ve touched a woman,” she confessed. “I hope I’m doing it right.”

She was doing it better than anyone could have imagined. Everything about her was delicacy, a softness that matched her little-girl face and had me on the edge of madness. I took her by the shoulders and guided her to the bed, laid her back, and settled over her.

***

I kissed her long and hard, barely biting her lower lip. I went down her neck, her chest, her belly, letting my tongue trace a slow path over her skin. She arched, breathing in broken gasps, whispering my name in barely audible murmurs.

I took off her shorts, which snagged for a moment on her hips, and pulled them away in one yank. I took her feet and moved up from her ankles, kissing, licking, biting her thighs as I got closer to her center. Every time my tongue brushed the edge of her sex, she let out a moan and tightened again.

“No one’s ever kissed me like that,” she said, her voice breaking.

“And I haven’t even really started yet,” I told her.

I pushed aside the last layer and finally put my mouth where I wanted her most. I went over her whole, from bottom to top, until I closed over her clit. Renata arched her back and clutched the sheets. I tasted her slowly, teasing, drawing circles with my tongue while I slid two fingers into her, searching for that inner spot that would make her lose control.

I didn’t take long to find it. The moment I pressed it, her whole body clenched. She tightened and loosened, again and again, her breathing turning into pure urgency. And then she went very still, stopped breathing for a second, clamped down hard around my fingers, and came trembling into my mouth.

“Did you like it?” I asked, climbing up to kiss her.

“Look at me,” she said, showing me her shaking hands. “I’ve never come like that.”

I gave her no respite. I went back down on her, this time sucking her clit with more insistence, and Renata writhed as if she couldn’t bear it and wanted more at the same time. I looked into her eyes while I made her come, and she held my gaze without looking away, until a new orgasm shook her from head to toe.

“Now it’s my turn,” she said, gently pushing me onto the bed.

***

Renata laid me on my back and took her time. She kissed my neck, squeezed my breasts, ran her tongue over my skin with a slowness that drove me crazy. I, who was used to being in control, found myself completely surrendered to her hands.

She dragged the pads of her fingers down my thighs, getting closer to my sex without touching it, provoking me with soft bites on my neck that tore moans out of me. I was so wet that when she finally touched me, she needed nothing more than my own dampness to glide over me.

“You’re shaking,” she whispered, amused.

“That’s what you do to me,” I admitted breathlessly.

She started slowly on my clit and gradually built up the intensity, until she slid two fingers inside me and kept stroking me with her thumb. I pushed my hips against her hand, unable to stay still. I’d wanted this moment for so long that pleasure hit me almost immediately. I had one of the longest orgasms of my life, clinging to her, biting my lips so I wouldn’t cry out.

“Don’t stop,” I begged.

“I’m not planning to,” she replied, and slid lower.

“I’m dying to know what you taste like,” she said, without a shred of shame, and spread my legs apart.

Her tongue ran over me completely, imitating everything I’d done to her. She was discovering it for the first time and doing it with a devotion that left me speechless. She focused on my clit while she fingered me again, and now I was the one writhing, the one losing her composure, the one letting herself be turned into pure sensation under her mouth.

She didn’t stop until I came again, pushing me against her, stifling my moans against the pillow so no one else at the house could hear us.

***

I pulled her to me and kissed her slowly, both of us breathless, sharing a taste neither of us knew whose it was anymore.

“I never imagined this would happen,” she said, resting her head on my chest.

“I imagined it a thousand times,” I confessed. “Only in my head I never dared say it.”

She laughed softly and kissed me again. We stayed like that for a while, tangled together, listening to the crickets outside and the other’s breathing inside. At some point we found each other again, without hurry this time, discovering every corner anew now that the urgency had passed.

Before the sky started to brighten, we got dressed, still with each other’s marks on our skin. Renata took my hand before we left the room.

“This stays between us,” she said, and it wasn’t a reproach, it was a promise.

“Between us,” I repeated.

We walked out into the sleeping estate as if nothing had happened, two friends who had stayed up late talking. But every time our looks crossed in the days that followed, we both knew the next family gathering would never again be a torture for me. Now it was a wait.