The Afternoon I Taught My Friend’s Son Everything

This happened about twelve years ago, but when I close my eyes I can still feel the heat of that afternoon and smell the cheap cologne mixed with nerves. I was forty-six at the time. I wasn’t skinny—I never had been—but I was at that particular point in life when curves settle into all the right places: generous hips, big breasts that were still firm, a waist that showed when I made the effort. The brown dye helped, of course. And taking care of myself. It also helped to know that, after two children and years of marriage, my pussy was still the same hungry pussy it had been in my twenties—tight, sensitive, and with that incorrigible habit of getting wet only when something interested me.

I had my life put together: my own house, a quiet husband with whom I had a peaceful but sparkless relationship, and an occasional lover who took the edge off whenever I needed it. But Tomás was different from the very beginning. There was no cold calculation with him, no boredom to compensate for. There was something simpler and more dangerous: the pure craving of a Thursday afternoon.

Tomás was my friend Raquel’s only son. Twenty years old, nearly six and a half feet tall, with that particular shyness of boys who spend more time in front of a screen than talking to real people. Raquel told me, with a certain resignation, that the boy never went out, that he only played video games and watched Japanese cartoons, that he’d never had a real girlfriend. I listened and nodded, but the truth was that I started looking at him differently the day I saw him in a T-shirt.

It was at a barbecue at Raquel’s house, in the middle of autumn. Tomás was helping his father with the grill, wearing a short-sleeved shirt, and I couldn’t stop staring at him. They weren’t the arms of a sedentary boy: they were firm, with veins showing just beneath the skin, the kind you get when the body is at its best without ever having set foot in a gym. I wondered, almost without meaning to, what his cock looked like beneath those loose jeans slipping down over his hips. That day he got into my head and never left: what Raquel’s shy boy would be like with his hard bulge between my hands, not knowing what to do with it, looking at me like puppies that haven’t yet learned how to eat.

From that afternoon on, whenever we happened to be at Raquel’s house together, I watched him. Tomás would greet me with one-word answers and disappear into his room, but whenever he passed by me, I noticed how hard it was for him not to look at me. His eyes wandered on their own, quickly, toward my cleavage or my ass, and then he would jerk them away as if he’d touched something hot. He blushed even when I said nothing. Just standing close to him, with my breasts barely showing above the edge of my blouse, was enough to make his words get stuck.

That was enough for me.

The excuse presented itself. At one of those gatherings, Raquel mentioned that her son knew about technology, that he was a genius with electronic gadgets. I took advantage of the moment and approached Tomás before he could escape to his room.

—Tomi, what luck finding you here. I bought a new television and I don’t understand a thing about setting it up. Could you give me a hand sometime this week?

He turned red in a second. He glanced from side to side as if looking for an escape, fixed the dark fringe falling over his eyes, and nodded without saying much.

—Yes, of course... I can come Thursday, if you’d like.

—Perfect —I said, touching his forearm for barely a second—. I’ll expect you at five.

Before leaving the gathering, I made sure to say to Raquel in front of him, “What a good boy you have. He’s going to help me with the television.” Raquel looked at him proudly and told him to go help me, since that was what he was good for. Tomás stood there without knowing what to say, his face burning and nowhere to escape.

On Thursday I dressed carefully. I didn’t overdo it, but I didn’t neglect it either. Jeans that clung to my ass like a second skin, a camisole top with thin straps and no bra, because I wanted my tits to move on their own every time I bent over. Perfume behind my ears and between my breasts. Red lipstick. My hair loose over my shoulders. Before leaving the bathroom, I touched myself lightly over my jeans and confirmed what I already knew: my panties had been wet since noon from imagining the scene.

When the intercom rang at exactly five and I saw Tomás appear at the door, I knew the plan was a good one. He arrived in his oversized black T-shirt, headphones hanging around his neck, wearing that expression of someone who had no idea where to put his hands. He looked at me for exactly one second before fixing his eyes on the floor.

—Hi... I’m right on time —he said.

—Good —I replied, turning my back to him and walking inside—. Come in. The television’s in the living room.

I felt his eyes following me as I walked. I swayed my ass just enough that it wouldn’t be obvious, but enough that he couldn’t pull his eyes away. I did nothing else in particular. I just walked.

Tomás settled in front of the television with the concentration of someone relieved to have something concrete to focus on. He pulled a cable from his pants pocket, connected the remote, and began configuring the network with the effortless ease of boys raised among screens. I leaned against the doorframe with my arms crossed, crossing them directly beneath my breasts to lift them even higher, and watched him work.

—So tell me, Tomi... —I began, walking slowly toward him—, with everything you know about technology and that build of yours, how come there isn’t some girl driving you crazy?

His shoulders tensed at once. He didn’t stop looking at the screen, but his ears suddenly turned red.

—No, I... I don’t have time for that sort of thing —he muttered.

I came up beside him, so close that I could feel the heat coming off him. I placed one hand on the back of the chair where he was sitting.

—Don’t you have time, or haven’t you found the right person? —I asked, leaning close enough for my perfume to reach him and for my tits to be level with his eyes—. Because a boy with arms like those shouldn’t spend Saturday night alone, jerking off in front of his computer.

The vulgar word hit him like a slap. He dropped the cable. He froze, breathing unevenly, not knowing where to look. When he raised his eyes, the difference in height with him sitting put them directly in front of my cleavage. He stayed there a second too long, and I watched him swallow before turning his gaze toward the floor.

—Don’t get like that —I said, running my fingers very slowly over the back of his neck, barely brushing his skin—. I’m not scolding you. I just think it’s a waste.

—It’s just that... I’m not used to people talking to me like that —he managed, his voice slightly deeper than normal.

—Like what? We’re only talking. —I paused, then looked down without disguising it, toward his crotch, where a distinct bulge was already showing against his pants—. But look at you—you’re already nervous. And not just in the neck, huh?

He followed my gaze, realized what I had seen, and tried to cover himself with his hands. His face turned tomato red. I laughed softly and moved his hands away.

—Don’t cover up, Tomi. It’s a compliment. —I spoke almost into his ear and ran the tip of my tongue over his earlobe before continuing—. Tell me something... have you ever had a girlfriend?

—Once... a long time ago —he answered quickly, almost defensively.

—And what did you do together? —I insisted, lowering my voice to almost a whisper—. Did you fuck her?

The room fell silent. Tomás dropped the cable he was holding and took a moment to answer.

—No... not much. We kissed, that’s all. Little pecks.

It was hard not to laugh. That boy who was nearly six and a half feet tall, with those arms and that body hinted at beneath his loose shirt, had had a girlfriend he only exchanged little pecks with. I let out a soft giggle, the kind that comes out by itself.

—So you’re a virgin —I said, without dressing it up.

He nodded without looking at me, biting his lip.

—Tomi —I said, moving even closer, until my breath brushed his lips—. A woman isn’t for giving little pecks to. A woman is for sucking her whole, for sticking it in her all the way and making her scream. Do you want me to teach you the difference?

He froze. His eyes moved from my mouth to my tits and back to my mouth, over and over, unable to decide. But he didn’t back away. And that was all I needed to know.

I placed my hands on his cheeks, feeling the heat rising across his face, and kissed him.

At first he was completely rigid, not knowing what to do with his lips or his hands. I began slowly, savoring him, teaching him the rhythm. When I slipped my tongue inside, he flinched slightly but didn’t pull away. I sought out his tongue with mine, tangled them together, sucked it slowly, showing him how to kiss a woman who wanted to be fucked. I guided him patiently, drawing him in little by little, until something inside him came loose.

And then his hands, which had been still on his knees, shot up to my waist. From there, without thinking, they went straight to my ass, grabbing it with both hands and squeezing it with clumsy urgency.

He grabbed me with such force that it took my breath away. He stood up without breaking the kiss, and suddenly he was towering over me while I looked up at him. The shy boy had disappeared; what remained was a young, horny male, his cock so hard that I felt it digging into my belly through the jeans. He pressed me against his body and began returning my kiss with an urgency that drew an unexpected moan from me.

I grabbed his cock through the fabric and squeezed it. It was huge. I’m not exaggerating: huge, thick, throbbing, outlined against his pants as if it were about to tear them apart. A hoarse moan escaped into my mouth.

—That’s not a virgin’s cock —I whispered, without letting go—. That’s a cock made to ruin pussies, Tomi. And you didn’t even know it.

I pulled back just enough to catch my breath, my lips swollen and my pulse racing.

—Looks like the student learns quickly —I said, running my thumb over his lower lip, still wet from the kiss.

He looked at me with blazing eyes, chest heaving, his hands still squeezing my ass without realizing how much force he was using. He lowered his gaze toward my cleavage, which had shifted generously during our struggle, exposing half a breast, and I felt his fingers sink a little deeper into my buttocks.

—Shall we go to the bedroom? —I asked.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

***

I led him down the hallway by the hand, feeling his fingers squeeze mine. When we reached the bedroom and I closed the door, Tomás stood in the middle of the rug with the look of someone who still couldn’t believe what was happening. Tall, quiet, with the bulge in his pants impossible to hide and his chest rising and falling faster than normal.

I grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed him again, more slowly this time, while my hands went straight to the hem of his black T-shirt.

—Take it off —I whispered against his lips.

He pulled it off in one motion. What appeared underneath left me completely satisfied with my choice: broad shoulders, well-defined pectorals, an abdomen descending in that dangerous line toward his pants. Smooth white skin contrasting with dark hair. The body of a boy in his prime, without artifice or effort.

—No one ever told you what you had hidden in there —I said, running my palms over his stomach, feeling his muscles contract beneath my touch, and lowered my hands to the zipper of his pants.

—No one ever looked at me like that —he replied, his voice breaking.

I undid the button, lowered the zipper, and pushed his jeans and boxers down in one movement. His cock sprang free as if it had been waiting for the moment: hard, thick, long, its head red and swollen, throbbing against his belly. My mouth watered before I realized it.

—My God, Tomi... —I murmured, wrapping my hand around it. My palm couldn’t close completely around its girth—. And you were wasting this in your bedroom.

He let out a strangled moan the moment I grabbed it. I began moving my hand slowly, up and down, feeling the skin slide over the hardness beneath. A thin thread of pre-cum emerged from the tip, and I used it to lubricate him, sliding my hand more easily. His knees buckled slightly.

—Wait... wait, or I’m going to come already —he said through clenched teeth, squeezing his eyes shut.

—Relax. —I kissed his neck, barely biting it—. Don’t worry. Today you’re going to come every time you’ve got the balls for it.

I knelt in front of him before he could react. Tomás looked down and saw me there, his cock inches from my face, and I think he stopped breathing. I gripped the base with one hand, caressed his balls with the other, and without taking my eyes off him, ran my tongue from underneath to the tip, slowly, as if I were licking an ice cream.

—Fuck... —he breathed, his voice breaking.

I took the head into my mouth. I closed my lips around it and sucked, circling my tongue over the tip and savoring the salty taste of the fluid that kept seeping out. Then I lowered myself little by little, fighting my gag reflex, until I had almost the entire thing inside me. It hit the back of my throat. A long moan escaped him, his legs trembling.

I moved my mouth up and down over him at a steady rhythm, sucking him eagerly and getting him thoroughly wet. I pulled off, licked along the sides, sucked his balls one at a time, then took him back deep into my mouth. Tomás didn’t know where to put his hands, until I took one and placed it on the back of my head, giving him permission. He began setting the pace slightly, slowly thrusting into my mouth, afraid of hurting me, and I let him, moaning with his cock inside so he could feel the vibration.

—I’m going to... I’m going to come —he gasped suddenly, pulling my hair to take me off him.

I let him slip out, but I didn’t let go. I pressed the tip against my lips, playing my tongue over the glans, and kept stroking the base with my hand, fast and firm.

—Come on, give me all of it —I said, looking up at him.

Tomás threw his head back with a bestial moan and let go. The first jet hit my open mouth, hot and thick; the second marked my cheek, and the next ones fell over my breasts, sliding down my cleavage. It was an incredibly long release, the ejaculation of a kid who hadn’t come in days or weeks. When he finished, my face and chest were covered in cum, and he was panting as if he’d run ten blocks.

I licked my lips without taking my eyes off him, then ran a finger over my cheek to gather what had remained there. I brought it slowly to my mouth and swallowed in front of him. Another moan escaped him, almost pained, as he watched me do it.

—That was really fast —he murmured, embarrassed.

—It was your first time for real —I said, standing up—. And don’t worry, Tomi. I won’t forget that cock. Now it’s my turn.

I pushed him onto the bed. I unbuttoned my blouse slowly and let it fall to the floor, leaving my tits bare, still marked by drops of cum glittering between my breasts. Tomás looked at them as if he’d witnessed a miracle. I unbuttoned my jeans and lowered them without hurry, leaving myself in nothing but my soaked panties, which showed the neatly trimmed pubic hair and the wetness of my pussy through the fabric.

—Touch me —I ordered.

He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled me toward him by the hips. He took one whole breast into his mouth, sucking it hungrily and barely biting my nipple. The greed of a boy who had never before had a tit within reach of his mouth showed plainly on his face. I grabbed the back of his neck and pressed him against me, moaning. He switched to the other one, sucked, licked, bit, and stayed that way for long minutes, unwilling to let me go.

—Take off my panties —I said, my voice hoarse.

He lowered them slowly, and when they reached my knees, I stood in front of him with my legs slightly apart, showing him my wet, shaved pussy. His eyes went straight there. I climbed onto the bed, pulled him onto his back, and knelt over his face, holding onto the headboard.

—Lick me —I ordered—. Stick out your tongue.

I settled over his mouth. Tomás grabbed my ass with both hands, pulled me against his face, and began licking me with delicious clumsiness: no technique, but hungry, his whole tongue buried between my lips, searching for somewhere to go. I guided his face with my hips, showing him where my clitoris was, and when he found the spot and began circling his tongue around it, a long moan escaped me and rang throughout the room.

—There, there, keep going right there... like that, daddy... —I told him, rocking over his mouth and gripping the headboard tightly.

The kid learned quickly. He sucked my entire clitoris, tugging at it with his lips; he pushed his tongue into my pussy, as deep as he could; he licked me from ass to pubis and back again. I felt one finger enter me, clumsy but thick, and then another. He curled his fingers upward, almost by accident, and touched me exactly where he needed to.

I came on his face with a scream. I clamped my thighs against his ears, moving my hips wildly and soaking his mouth and chin. He didn’t stop; he kept licking me while I came, bearing my weight, until I had to pull his head away because I couldn’t take any more with my clitoris hypersensitive.

I climbed down panting, collapsed beside him for a second, and looked at his cock: it was already hard again, pointing toward the ceiling, as if he hadn’t come ten minutes earlier. Youth, I thought.

—Come here —I said, pulling him on top of me—. Put it in.

Tomás positioned himself between my legs, his hands trembling slightly. I took his cock and guided it toward my entrance. When the tip brushed the lips of my pussy, he went still, looking at me and waiting for permission.

—Put it in slowly —I whispered—. But put it all the way in.

He pushed. Then pushed again. And I felt that thick cock forcing its way inside me, stretching me and filling me inch by inch until I felt it hitting the back. I let out a long moan, gripping his back and digging my nails into him. He made a sound that came from deep in his chest, half surprise and half relief, as if he’d been holding his breath for twenty years.

—Stay still —I whispered—. Now move. Slowly.

He began moving on top of me, clumsy at first, pulling almost all the way out and then driving back in. Every thrust drew a moan from me. I placed my hands on his ass and pulled him toward me, setting the rhythm.

—That’s it, harder, come on... wreck me —I told him in his ear.

Tomás clenched his teeth, eyes closed, clinging to my hips as if his life depended on it. I watched him struggle with his own body, trying to hold back, biting his lower lip with a concentration I found incredibly tender. Every thrust reached deep inside me; every withdrawal left me wanting him to return. The bed creaked beneath our weight, my tits bounced with every thrust, and he watched them, hypnotized, without stopping fucking me.

He didn’t last five minutes. I felt him tense above me, his cock growing even harder inside, then he let out a hoarse moan and came again, inside me, in hot jets I felt perfectly against the walls of my pussy. Then he collapsed against my chest, breathing raggedly.

—That was really fast again... —he murmured after a moment, his face buried between my tits.

—It was perfect —I told him, stroking his hair—. And we’re not finished.

He looked at me with a gratitude that seemed more tender than anything else. I gave him a slow, unhurried kiss, savoring the silence of the room.

A few minutes passed. I listened to his breathing return to normal, felt the heat of his young body against mine, and felt his seed leaking from my pussy in a warm trickle running down my thigh. The afternoon was still long.

I wasn’t wrong.

Before he could say anything, Tomás moved beside me. There was something different in his eyes now: it wasn’t shame anymore, but determination. He climbed on top of me and kissed me with a firmness that surprised me. When I lowered my hand between his legs, his cock was already rising again, hardening beneath my fingers.

—I want to do it right this time —he said—. I want you to come with me inside you.

And he did.

This second time was different. Tomás took his time, exploring with his hands and his mouth. He moved down my neck and over my breasts, sucking my nipples until they were hard and sensitive. He continued down my belly and opened my legs again, and without anyone asking him, he began licking me once more, more slowly now, learning to read my reactions. When he had me trembling again, he came back up, turned me over, and put me on all fours on the bed.

—Like that —I said, arching my back and offering him my raised ass—. Put it in from behind.

I felt the head of his cock resting against my entrance. He pushed slowly, and this time it went in more easily, my pussy already soaked and worked over. He buried himself all the way. He grabbed my hips with those big hands and began fucking me, slowly at first, then with a firm, steady rhythm. Every thrust made my ass smack against his pelvis with a wet sound that filled the room.

—Oh God, Tomi, like that, harder, harder... —I moaned, gripping the sheets—. Fuck me hard, don’t hold back.

He sped up. He drove into me eagerly, without mercy, squeezing my ass and pulling my hair with his other hand, as if he had suddenly realized that he could do whatever he wanted. His pride had been hurt by how quickly he had come before, and now he wanted to prove something to me. And he proved it with every thrust.

—Touch your tits —he ordered, in a new voice.

I was surprised, but I obeyed. I lowered one hand, reached my clitoris, and began rubbing it while he kept fucking me from behind. Within seconds I felt the orgasm building again, stronger than the previous one, squeezing and releasing his cock from inside.

—I’m coming... —I warned him, trembling—. I’m coming, Tomi, don’t stop...

—Come on, that’s it, come for me —he gasped, thrusting into me without slowing down.

I screamed into the pillow. My whole body shook, and I felt the walls of my pussy clenching around his cock in spasms he felt too, because he let out a hoarse moan and came inside me for the second time, squeezing my hips so hard I would have marks the next day.

We both collapsed onto the bed, breathless and drenched in sweat. He was on top of me, still inside, unwilling to pull out. I felt his cock continuing to throb, emptying the last drop.

When he finally pulled out, we lay on our backs without speaking, listening to the sounds of the afternoon on the other side of the window. The sun entered at an angle through the blinds, striping Tomás’s chest with lines of light and shadow. I glanced at him without his noticing and thought that rarely in my life had I seen anything so close to pure satisfaction as the look on that boy’s face at that moment.

—Are you going to tell anyone? —he asked at last, his eyes on the ceiling.

—Are you? —I returned.

—No —he said firmly.

—Then we both know how to keep quiet.

Tomás stared at the ceiling for another moment. When he got up to retrieve his clothes, he did it with a different ease from the one he’d brought in: his shoulders looser, his movements surer, his cock still hanging half-hard between his legs, as if in the space of one afternoon he had put right something that had been out of place for a long time. He dressed unhurriedly and paused at the door.

—Can I come back sometime? —he asked, with a calm that seemed completely new in him.

I looked at him for a second before answering.

—Yes. But next time bring condoms, because you filled me twice today.

He blushed one last time, nodded almost without smiling, and left.

***

That afternoon began something that would last more than a year. Tomás came back many times, and every visit was a more confident, more capable version of the boy who had crossed my threshold in that oversized shirt and with that gaze that didn’t know where to go. He always arrived on time, without excuses or pretexts, with the simple honesty of someone who no longer needed to disguise what he wanted: to come in, fuck me the way I liked, and leave.

I taught him everything I knew, patiently and without rushing, because few things are more satisfying than watching someone develop like that, from scratch, in your hands. Learning to eat a woman’s pussy until he made her scream, to last more than twenty minutes without coming, to know when to ask her to get on all fours and when to throw her onto her back and put her legs over his shoulders. To understand that pleasure isn’t a race but a conversation built by two people, through screams and bites.

And because twenty years old, with a cock like Tomás’s, when you know how to make the most of them, are the closest thing there is to borrowed youth.