The Southern Cousin Seduced Me While My Boyfriend Slept

The music kept pounding my chest as if it wanted to crack me open from the inside. The quinta was packed with people, but all I could feel was the heat slowly climbing up my thighs. Tomás had given in to the pisco ages ago. I saw him stumbling toward the bathroom, mumble, “I’ll be right back, babe,” and end up sprawled facedown in a room in the back, snoring like an old truck laboring uphill.

I had done everything I could. I sat on his lap, bit his neck, slipped my hand under his shirt until I brushed his half-asleep cock. Nothing. Just silly little laughs and a “I’m really dizzy, my love.” For a second I got angry, then something dirtier took over. A kind of want that burned between my legs and made me press my thighs together without even realizing it, over and over, as if I could hold in something that was already too much for me.

I went back out to the dance floor alone. Sofía saw me, let go of the guy she was dancing with, and pulled me by the arm with that knowing smile of hers.

—Come on, I have to introduce you to someone. My cousin. She arrived yesterday from Valdivia.

And there she was. Lara. Very long black hair, pulled to one side and falling all the way to her waist. Her dark skin gleamed with sweat under the warm patio lights. Her black eyes swept over me from head to toe as if she had already stripped me twice before even taking my hand. She was wearing a gray T-shirt that outlined a pair of firm tits, no bra, and ripped jeans that looked painted onto her hips. She smelled like soft tobacco and something sweet, like burnt honey on the grill.

—Hi —she said, her voice husky, dragging that southern accent through every syllable—. I’m Lara. And you’re the famous Renata, right?

I smiled, biting my lip without meaning to.

—That’s me. Famous for what?

—For how well you dance —she answered, unfiltered, stepping a little closer—. I’ve been watching you since you came in. You were moving your hips like you were begging someone to grab you.

I let out a low laugh, but the heat rushed to my face as if someone had thrown boiling water on me. She wasn’t flirting with little smiles or rehearsed lines. She went straight for it, no disguise. And instead of scaring me, that lit me up.

We started dancing face to face. At first it was just rhythm, hips bumping by accident, hands brushing arms. But Lara closed the distance fast. She grabbed my waist with one hand, the other slid up my back to the nape of my neck, and she pressed me to her body like she’d been planning it for hours. I felt her tits against mine, hard and hot through the thin fabric of my dress. The friction made me gasp without meaning to. I smelled her breath, beer and mint, when she leaned in to my ear.

—Do you like being looked at like that? —she whispered—. Because I’ve been looking at you for a while and I feel like ripping you apart.

I nodded without thinking. I surprised myself by nodding so fast. With Tomás I never got like this so easily. With him I was affectionate, playful, “slowly, baby.” With Lara it was something else: pure filth, raw instinct. She turned me around and pressed me back against her chest. Her hands slid down my sides and stopped right at the edge of my tits, outside the dress. She didn’t touch them yet. She just circled them, promising. My breathing quickened, my pulse throbbed in my throat, at my temples, in my clit, already swollen against my soaking panties.

—You’re shaking —she said, sounding amused—. Does it turn you on that much when someone touches your tits?

—A lot —I admitted, my voice breaking—. They drive me crazy.

She gave a low laugh and finally grabbed them. Over the dress, hard, her thumbs pressing my stiff nipples through the fabric. I moaned against her neck, unable to help myself. Every squeeze sent a direct jolt straight to my cunt. All at once I understood why Tomás and Iván, my ex, used to go crazy for my breasts: because when someone grips them like that, with real hunger, it hurts so good and you feel it everywhere.

We danced like that for what felt like forever: kissing each other’s neck, biting softly, her hands kneading my tits while I ground backward against her pelvis. Sweat glued our clothes to us, the music pushed us on, and I was melting little by little right there in the middle of the floor, with fifty people around us that I no longer saw. She bit my earlobe.

—Let’s go somewhere quieter —she said—. I want to taste all of you.

She took my hand and led me down the dark hallway to the back room, right where Tomás was snoring. It never even crossed my mind to protest. She closed the door slowly, turned the key, and leaned against the wood, looking at me. Streetlight came in through the half-broken window, just enough to see us in shadows. The bed was a full and a half. My boyfriend took up one side, fully dressed, one leg out from under the blanket.

—Does it bother you? —she asked, not moving from the door.

—No —I said, and it scared me how fast it came out.

***

She shoved me against the wall. With one sharp pull she yanked the straps of my dress down. My tits fell free, heavy, my dark stiff nipples begging for something. She looked at them for a second, biting her lip, and then pounced.

—Damn, what a fucking nice pair of tits —she muttered before closing her mouth around a nipple.

She sucked the left one hard, her tongue grinding in firm circles, then tugged with her teeth just enough, right on that edge between tickle and pain. With her other hand she kneaded my right breast, pinched my nipple, twisted it slowly. I moaned loudly and covered my mouth with my free hand so I wouldn’t wake anyone in the quinta, not him. The taste of her saliva cooling on my skin, the smell of my sweat mixed with the tobacco in her hair, the wet sound of her mouth moving from one breast to the other... all of it drove me crazy.

She lifted my dress to my waist and ripped off my panties in one motion, no ceremony. I was left exposed against the cold wall. Lara pulled her T-shirt off over her head and let it fall to the floor. Her tits were smaller than mine, but her nipples were big and dark, almost the same color as her areola. She brought them to my mouth.

—Suck them —she ordered.

I sucked them hungry, one and then the other, licked the nipples until they got as hard as mine, bit softly at the base. She groaned hoarsely and grabbed my hair with both hands, as if she needed to make sure I wasn’t going anywhere.

We threw ourselves onto the bed. On the side opposite Tomás’s, who didn’t even flinch. Lara climbed on top of me in a 69 without warning, with that same certainty she had for everything. Her shaved pussy landed over my face: swollen lips, pink, already shiny before I even touched her. She smelled like desire, that salty-sweet smell women have when they’ve been aroused for hours. I licked slowly, savoring the soft texture of her lips, getting to know her. I found her hard clit, sucked it gently at first, then harder, my tongue vibrating. I slid my tongue inside her and felt her hot juices running down my chin.

She did the same to me, but worse. Flat tongue on my clit, sucking hard, while two long fingers went in and out, setting a rhythm that wasn’t mine but hers. I felt myself opening, felt her reading me. Tomás always took too long to find my clit. Lara found it in thirty seconds and already knew exactly how much pressure it needed.

I came first. Convulsing under her, biting the back of my hand so I wouldn’t scream. I felt everything clench and then release, a hot rush sliding down my thighs. She kept sucking for a couple of seconds more, slowly, stretching my orgasm until it hurt. Then it was her turn. She pressed herself to my mouth, trembled all over, and came on my tongue. The taste was intense, almost metallic at the end, and it stuck to the roof of my mouth.

We didn’t stop there. We rolled over. Lara pushed me gently to open my legs and settled between them, one leg over, the other under. Scissoring. Cunts pressed together, clits rubbing, both of us wet, hot, slick. We moved slowly at first, feeling each brush like it was the first time our bodies had ever learned something, and then faster and faster. My tits bounced with the movement. Lara stretched out both hands and grabbed them, squeezed them, pinched my nipples while she panted in my ear, breathing in broken gasps.

—Tell me you like it —she begged, almost pleading—. Tell me.

—I love it —I murmured softly, my face buried in her shoulder—. I love when you fuck me like this.

I came again, shaking all over, my fingers dug into her back. She came after, squeezing me hard between her legs, biting my collarbone so she wouldn’t make a sound.

We were left gasping, sweaty, sticky, our legs still crossed like a knot neither of us wanted to untie. Tomás didn’t even move. Every five seconds his chest rose with a breath, oblivious to everything.

Lara kissed me slowly, with the taste of both of us mixed together in her mouth.

—Good girl —she whispered against my lips—. Very good.

I just smiled, exhausted, my tits red and sensitive, my cunt still throbbing as if it had a life of its own. I brushed a strand of hair out of her face and she closed her eyes for a second, almost tender for the first time all night.

I had never felt so desired. With Tomás it was affection, routine, an affection that was fine and that I would probably still want in the morning. With Lara it was something else: pure fire, pure pulse, pure recognition between two bodies that had been staring at each other for hours without knowing it. And fuck, how badly I needed that without even knowing it.

Before dawn, she got dressed in silence, kissed my forehead, and left the room barefoot with her sneakers in her hand. I stayed a while longer, staring at the ceiling, listening to Tomás breathe beside me, and I didn’t feel guilty. For the first time in a long while, I felt like something in me had awakened and wasn’t going back to sleep.