The Friend Who Swore She Only Liked Men

Noa had never needed to show off to get people looking. It was enough for her to cross the university courtyard in her short skirt, deliberately shredded tights, and nails painted a different pattern every week, and heads would turn without even trying to hide it. She was twenty years old, petite, and pale-skinned, which made everything else stand out all the more: the dark eyeliner, the style halfway between gothic and something more ethereal, and a temperament that was nowhere near as fragile as her appearance.

She was bisexual, and she had never hidden it. In the months she had been at university, she’d had a couple of flings, a short-lived thing that went nowhere, and a more serious relationship with Daniela, a tall, dominant girl who had left her with the habit of wanting exactly that in other people: women who grabbed her by the hair, who spread her legs without asking permission, who told her how to suck and where to put her tongue. But if she had to choose, Noa knew it clearly: she liked women. The way they occupied space, the way they laughed, the way they looked at her when they thought she wasn’t noticing, and above all how they opened their legs when they finally gave in.

That was why the first semester of the year found her bored, sitting in a filler elective that had nothing to do with her degree. Some sort of administration course. The full name slipped right off her. The only redeeming thing was that the class was held in a huge auditorium full of new people.

“Can I?” asked a voice beside her. “Or is it taken?”

Noa looked up. The girl pointing to the seat next to her had tanned skin, dark brown hair half tied back, and eyes that couldn’t quite decide where to land.

“Sit down,” Noa said, and went back to her phone as if she didn’t care.

“Thanks. I’m late again. I’m Marina.”

“Noa.”

“Nice to meet you.”

***

They became friends with the suspicious ease of people who, deep down, are looking for something else. Marina was twenty-five, five years older than Noa, and she had the confident way of speaking that only cracked when the subject got too close to herself. She was studying to finish a degree she had started late, lived alone, and, as she repeated with an insistence Noa found almost sweet, she was heterosexual.

“But really heterosexual, okay?” she would say, as if someone had accused her of otherwise. “I’m into men. Always.”

“Nobody asked you,” Noa would answer, biting back a smile.

The problem was that nobody had to ask her. Marina brought it up on her own, over and over, until the statement started to sound less like truth and more like a wall she reinforced every night herself, probably after slipping in two fingers and thinking about something she didn’t dare name.

Noa noticed it quickly. She noticed the way Marina watched her when she thought she was distracted, that look that dropped for a second too long to her legs, to the hem of her skirt, to her neckline when she bent to pick up a note. She noticed how Marina got uncomfortable when some guy stared at Noa for too long, an annoyance Marina justified as a friend’s protectiveness but that smelled like something else: jealousy, tightly controlled desire, a cunt clenching on its own every time she saw her.

I’ve got you closer than you think, Noa thought, and did nothing. She wasn’t in a rush. She had learned that women like Marina weren’t won by pushing, but by letting doubt do the work, until one day their wet underwear fell away without anyone even touching them.

***

The excuse came in the form of an exam. The elective, boring as it was, still had to be passed, and neither of them had opened the notes until three days before. They agreed to study at Marina’s apartment, which was closer and, above all, empty.

Noa arrived with a bottle of wine they weren’t planning to touch until they were done, and ended up touching before they even started. The apartment was small and warm, with half-burned candles and a stack of books that didn’t seem to belong to anyone’s course. They sat on the floor against the sofa, with the notes spread out between them.

They studied for real for an hour. Then less. The wine loosened their sentences, and Marina started talking about things she didn’t tell anyone at university: a boyfriend who had left her feeling like nothing, the feeling of always arriving late to her own life.

“And you?” Marina asked, twirling her glass between her fingers. “How do you know what you like? I mean… so sure.”

Noa looked at her for a moment before answering.

“I didn’t always know. But at some point I stopped fighting it.”

“And you never get confused?”

“It’s not confusion,” Noa said softly. “Sometimes it’s just fear dressed up as confusion.”

The silence that followed was different from the earlier ones. Heavier. Marina lowered her gaze to the glass, then to Noa’s legs, folded beneath her body, and this time she didn’t look away in time.

“You’re looking at me,” Noa said, without reproach.

“It’s not what…” Marina stopped. Swallowed. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You don’t have to know.”

***

Noa didn’t lunge. She moved slowly, just enough to close the distance, and let Marina make the final choice. She brushed the back of Marina’s hand with two fingers, barely there, and felt Marina’s whole body tense and surrender in the same gesture.

“If you want me to stop, I’ll say it and stop,” Noa murmured, her lips near Marina’s cheek.

Marina didn’t say stop. She turned her face, and the first kiss was awkward, almost a question, until Noa held the back of her neck and turned it into an answer. Marina made a low sound against her mouth, something between shock and relief, like someone finally letting out a breath they’d been holding for years. Noa took advantage and bit her lower lip, tugged it just a little, and when Marina opened her mouth to complain, she slid her tongue all the way in. Marina moaned into the kiss, a short, sharp moan, and sank her nails into Noa’s arm.

“This is wrong,” Marina whispered, without pulling away.

“I don’t believe you,” Noa replied. “Your tits are hard. I can feel them from here.”

Marina looked down and flushed when she confirmed it was true: her nipples stood out against the thin T-shirt, so swollen they hurt. Noa ran her thumb over one, unhurried, and Marina let out a gasp that seemed to come from her stomach.

She slid a hand up Marina’s thigh, over the fabric of her pants, feeling the tremor running through the other girl’s skin. Marina let her, and at the same time clung to her, undecided between stopping and asking for more. Noa knew that indecision. She knew how to wait for it. She squeezed the inside of Marina’s thigh, very close to her crotch, and felt the heat coming from there even through the jeans.

“Look at me,” she said.

Marina opened her eyes. Her pupils were dilated and her breathing was broken, and all the certainty with which she said “I’m into men” had fallen apart on that sofa.

“Tell me what you want,” Noa insisted, touching her no more, leaving her at the edge of her own decision. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“I want…” Marina bit her lip. “I want you to touch me. To… to eat my pussy. Don’t make me say it again.”

That was enough.

***

Noa took off her T-shirt slowly, uncovering the tanned skin she had imagined so many times, and took a second just to look at her. Marina covered herself by instinct and Noa gently moved her hands away.

“Don’t cover up. I want to see you all over.”

She unclasped her bra with a short yank and Marina’s breasts sprang free, bigger than they looked under her clothes, with dark, hard nipples pointing at her face. Noa licked her lips without trying to hide it and grabbed one breast with her whole hand, squeezing until Marina let out a whimper. Then she lowered her mouth and took the nipple between her lips, sucking hard, tugging with her teeth just enough to make it hurt a little.

“Fuck,” Marina moaned, arching her back. “Fuck, fuck…”

Noa moved to the other breast, not letting go of the first, pinching the wet nipple between her fingers while she sucked and licked the other one. Saliva ran down Marina’s cleavage and she writhed under Noa as if she were being electrocuted.

She laid her down on the rug, among the forgotten notes, and started kissing her neck, her collarbone, the hollow between her breasts. Every kiss drew a new sound from Marina, more honest than the last. Noa wasn’t in a hurry: she would lower herself a centimeter, wait, feel the body beneath her begging her to keep going, and only then keep going.

“You’re impossible,” Marina panted. “Why are you going so slow?”

“Because you’ve been denying this for months,” Noa answered against her skin. “Months of squeezing your legs together in class while you watched me. I want you to feel all of it, you little bitch. I want you to remember every second.”

She unbuttoned Marina’s pants and pulled them down over her hips, sliding her palm along the inside of her thighs. Marina closed her legs for a moment, not out of rejection but from the intensity of what she was feeling, and Noa opened them again with a soft, firm pressure, spreading them all the way until she was completely exposed.

“Look at how wet you are,” Noa murmured, her eyes fixed on Marina’s soaked panties. “You’re drenched. I can see your pussy through the fabric.”

“Don’t say that,” Marina said, covering her face with her hands.

“I am going to say it. And you’re going to listen.”

She ran two fingers over the panties, up and down, following the line of the lips that showed through the wet cotton. Marina arched her back and bit the back of her hand to keep from crying out. Noa pressed right over the clit with the pad of her thumb, drawing slow circles, and felt the swollen bud beneath the fabric.

“It’s rock hard,” Noa commented, almost amused. “How long has it been since anyone ate you out like this?”

“Never,” Marina panted. “Nobody’s ever… like this… never…”

Noa yanked away the last garment and stared at what was underneath: Marina’s pussy, half-shaved, swollen, shining from how wet it was, with the inner lips peeking out between the outer ones. She bent down and smelled Marina’s crotch without touching, breathing deeply, taunting her.

“Please,” Marina begged. “Please, please…”

She ran her whole tongue from bottom to top in one long, flat lick, from the entrance to the clit. Marina let out a hoarse cry and buried her fingers in Noa’s hair, pulling her against her. Noa laughed against her flesh and did it again, and again, each time slower, savoring the clean, acidic taste of the pussy she had been fantasizing about for months.

“Not like that… I won’t last like that,” Marina stammered.

“You don’t have to last. I want to make you come twice. Three times. As many as you can take.”

Noa settled between her legs, hooked Marina’s thighs over her shoulders, and gripped her hips with both hands, holding her still. The first full contact of her mouth on the clit made Marina sink her fingers into her hair and let out a long, unrestrained moan, the sound of someone who finally stops fighting what she wants. Noa held her by the hips, kept her open, and worked her tongue with a patient rhythm that gradually built, feeling every muscle in Marina’s body tense like a drawn string.

She sucked Marina’s clit between her lips, first with soft suction, then harder, while one hand slid up and she shoved two fingers inside her at once. Marina screamed, a scream that bounced off the apartment walls, and started moving against Noa’s hand as if she couldn’t help it. Noa curled her fingers inside her, searching for the right spot, that rough patch inside the front wall, and massaged it firmly while continuing to suck up top.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” Marina kept repeating, eyes squeezed shut. “I’m going to come, I’m going to come, don’t stop, please don’t stop…”

“I’m not stopping,” Noa replied, mouth full. “Come on my face. I want to feel it.”

She drove Marina to the edge and held her there, right on the brink, until Marina stopped thinking about what was right or wrong and gave in completely. The orgasm shook her in waves, with a hoarse sound that ended in a broken laugh, almost disbelief. Marina’s pussy clenched and opened against Noa’s fingers in violent spasms, and warm wetness ran over her wrist. Noa didn’t pull away for a second: she kept licking gently, stretching out the pleasure, until Marina slapped at her and begged her to stop because she couldn’t take any more.

“Enough, enough,” she panted, laughing and crying at the same time. “I can’t, I can’t…”

Noa lifted her face, her chin and cheeks shining with Marina’s release, and smiled with an almost cruel little grimace.

“We’re just getting started, sweetheart.”

She climbed on top of Marina, still with her fingers inside her, and gave her a deep kiss so she could taste it. Marina made a surprised sound into the kiss but didn’t pull away: she sucked Noa’s lips, her tongue, all the taste of herself that Noa was giving her back.

“Take your clothes off yourself,” Marina ordered, already looser. “I want it too.”

Noa sat up and took off her shirt and bra in one motion. Her small, pale breasts were now level with Marina’s mouth, and Marina propped herself up and sucked one nipple with more hunger than technique. Noa moaned, grabbed her head, and rubbed it against her face.

“Like that, good girl,” she said, her voice breaking. “Learn.”

She took off her skirt and panties and sat astride Marina’s mouth, gripping the back of the sofa. Marina looked up at her from below, lips parted, and Noa lowered her hips until her pussy rested on Marina’s face.

“Suck,” she asked her. “Like I sucked you. With your whole tongue.”

Marina obeyed, clumsy at first, but she learned fast. She ran her tongue up and down, then pushed the tip into the entrance, then went back to the clit. Noa started moving against her face, riding her slowly, feeling Marina’s mouth swell beneath her. She grabbed the back of Marina’s neck and pressed her face harder into her, not letting her breathe all the way.

“Like that, like that, don’t stop…,” Noa panted. “Stick your tongue out, make it hard, let me fuck your face…”

Marina let her. She stuck out her tongue and held it firm, and Noa rubbed against it until a tremor started in her thighs and climbed up through her stomach. She came in Marina’s mouth with a long, broken moan, pressing her face against her pussy until the last spasm. When she finally pulled away, Marina’s chin was shining and her eyes were glassy, and she was smiling like someone who had just discovered a secret.

They lay down side by side, and Noa slid one leg between Marina’s, pressing her pussy with her thigh. Marina started panting and moving against her again, and Noa grabbed one breast with one hand and shoved three fingers into her with the other, this time without asking. Marina opened her mouth in a silent scream.

“You’ve still got more,” Noa whispered in her ear, jamming her fingers in to the knuckles. “You’re a slut with a lot of built-up need. It shows.”

“Yes,” Marina moaned. “Yes, I’m a slut, I’m your slut, don’t stop…”

Noa fingered her hard, fast, curling her fingers, slamming her palm against the clit with every thrust. Marina’s body jerked on the rug, her breasts bounced, her mouth stayed open in a continuous moan. She came a second time a few minutes later, harder than the first, with a warm spurt that soaked Noa’s fingers and forearm.

“Oh, look at this,” Noa laughed, pulling her fingers out and holding them up, shining. “You’re dripping.”

Marina covered her face with both hands, red all the way to her ears, but when Noa brought her fingers to her mouth, she accepted them and sucked them one by one, never looking away.

***

Afterward they lay sprawled on the rug, among the clothes and the ruined notes, catching their breath. Marina had her eyes fixed on the ceiling and a smile that wouldn’t quite leave. Her legs were still open and her pussy was throbbing.

“Don’t say anything,” she asked.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Noa replied, resting her head on Marina’s chest. “Except that I don’t believe you about men anymore.”

Marina laughed and tugged at her hair, gently.

“Idiot.”

“Really heterosexual, huh?” Noa mimicked her.

“Shut up.” Marina laughed, but she took Noa’s hand and brought it back between her legs. “Again. Please.”

They stayed like that for a long while, with no need to name anything. Marina stroked her back with the tips of her fingers while Noa worked two fingers slowly inside her, not trying to make her come yet, just keeping her hot. At some point Noa felt Marina turn toward her, looking for her mouth again.

“What if I’ve been confused my whole life?” Marina asked softly.

Noa looked at her. There was no wall now, no rehearsed line, no insistence from before. Just a woman looking at her honestly for the first time, with wet pussy wrapped around her fingers.

“It’s not confusion,” Noa repeated, and kissed her. “I already told you what it was.”

They both took the exam, of course, without studying. They barely passed. Neither of them cared much: by then they had much more interesting things to review, and a small apartment with half-burned candles where no one was going to interrupt them.