The Cabin Where My Mature Lover Lost Control

I'm Mariana, and I'm telling again one of those memories I keep just for myself. Esteban had been carrying the same idea around in his head for months, an obsession he repeated like a mantra every time he had me close. I played along, laughed, let him believe he was in charge, but afterward I always found a way to take the reins: I would always end up riding him, setting the pace with my hips pressed tight against his, or emptying him with my mouth until he had no arguments left, swallowing every drop of his cum while he gripped my hair and moaned like a dog. It drove him crazy, and I knew it.

But he was stubborn. He wouldn't give up. According to my calendar, there was only one day left before his whim would no longer have consequences, and he, who was keeping count too, had no intention of waiting that long. He rearranged schedules, moved appointments around, and convinced me to spend the entire night with him. It was Friday. I told everyone I'd be sleeping at Lucía's, a friend who knew about my adventures and covered for me without asking questions.

—What if they call you? —she had warned me that afternoon.

—Nobody's going to call —I replied, already with my bag over my shoulder.

Nobody ever called. That was the easy part.

Esteban, for his part, made up a business trip and promised to return the next day. Since Lucía lived only a few blocks from my house, I walked there. I'd told him where to leave the car so he could wait for me without anyone seeing him. I went in, chatted with her for a while in the kitchen, left my bag on her bed so it would look as though I was staying, and went back out through the rear door, the one that opened onto the alley and that she always left unlatched for me.

The car was where we'd agreed, its lights off and its engine warm. I got in, closed the door slowly, and only then let myself breathe.

—I thought you were going to change your mind —he said, glancing at me.

—You still have time to be disappointed.

He laughed and pulled away. The cabin was about twenty kilometers away, in a wooded area with no neighbors or lights. We barely spoke on the way. He drove with one hand and squeezed my thigh with the other, moving higher little by little, testing my patience, until his fingers slipped beneath my skirt and found the wetness already streaming between my legs. He touched me over my panties, squeezing my clit with his thumb, then pushed them aside and slipped two fingers all the way inside me. I spread my legs and let him, because I liked that slowness, that way he had of taking his time, something only the years could teach. By the time we reached the cabin, his hand was soaked.

***

The cabin smelled of wood and old firewood. Esteban switched on a standing lamp, and warm light spread across the walls. He wasted no time on preliminaries: he kissed me against the door as soon as he closed it, his hands firm on my waist, and I felt all the exhaustion of pretending leave my body at once. He tore my blouse open, pulled my bra down to free my tits, and bent down to suck my nipples one at a time, biting them just hard enough to make me arch my back. I unbuckled his belt while he licked me, and when I pulled his pants down, he was hard and throbbing, straining out of his briefs. I squeezed him in my hand, and he growled against my neck.

He led me to the bed, and the first thing he did was kneel in front of me. He knew exactly what I liked. He spread my legs wide, tore off my soaked panties, and buried his face in my pussy without ceremony. His tongue worked with that maddening patience, circling my clit, sucking it, alternating with the tip that slipped inside and emerged shining with my juices. He licked me from top to bottom, from the crack of my ass to my hood, then returned to the exact spot where I needed him. I grabbed his head with both hands and rubbed my pussy against his mouth without shame until my first orgasm buckled my knees and I had to hold on to his hair to keep from falling. I felt everything inside me contracting, soaking his beard and chin. When I finished, panting, the only fair thing was to return the favor.

—Cheater —I said, pushing him onto his back on the mattress.

—I'm practical —he replied, with the smile of a man who had nothing left to prove.

I knelt between his legs and took him slowly into my mouth, watching him, enjoying the way his jaw tightened. I licked the tip first, tasting the thick drop already beading there, then worked him all the way in until I felt his head hit my throat. I sucked his cock eagerly, moving up and down, fondling his balls with one hand and squeezing the base with the other. I pulled him out dripping with saliva and ran my tongue underneath, following the thick vein running along him, and he let out a long moan. When I felt him firm, his cock hard as iron and his breathing ragged, I mounted him. I settled over him, gripped his cock in my hand, and slowly lowered myself onto it, feeling him open me from the inside. I planted my hands on his chest and began to move, searching for my own rhythm, the one I knew would bring me another orgasm. I went all the way up and down, feeling him slip almost completely out before driving him back in to the hilt, my tits bouncing in his face. He let me take the lead for a while, eyes half-closed, squeezing my ass with both hands, but when I felt him nearing the end, I rose abruptly, grabbed his dripping cock, and put it in my mouth. His release ended where I wanted it to, far from any risk, thick spurts filling my tongue and running down the corner of my mouth, and I heard him curse hoarsely into the pillow.

One point for me.

We rested for only a few minutes, just long enough to catch our breath, and started again. I tried to keep leading, but he was determined to have things his way, and every time we changed positions I took advantage of his exhaustion to mount him again and dominate the situation. He got hard again by sucking my tits and fingering me, and I rode him face-to-face first, then backward, always setting the pace, always making sure that when he was about to come, I pulled him out in time. I came the second time with him licking my clit while I stroked his cock, and the third with his cum spread across my tits.

At one point I was on top of him again, facing away, my hands braced on his knees, presenting him with the nape of my neck. He had left my skin burning with a series of slaps that echoed through the silent room, sharp smacks on my ass that left their marks and made me squeeze him tighter inside. I moved slowly, feeling his cock strike the back of my pussy with every downward thrust, while he spread my cheeks with his thumbs and watched himself slide in and out. I was about to come again, eyes closed and surrendered, and I let my guard down. I didn't feel him sit up.

It was a sudden, calculated movement, the act of someone who had been waiting all night for that lapse in attention. He bent me forward, leaving me facedown with half my body hanging over the foot of the bed, unsupported and off balance. Before I could react, he had positioned himself behind me, and this time he didn't go for the usual hole. I felt the tip of his cock, still slippery with my own juices, pushing against my tight asshole, then the burning sensation of the head forcing its way inside.

—Esteban —I managed to say, half protest, half something else.

He ignored me. He pushed patiently until he was all the way inside, until I felt his balls slap against my pussy, and then he began moving hard, holding my hips, pulling almost all the way out before driving back in to the hilt. In that position, bent over with my face crushed against the mattress and my ass in the air, there was no way to get away from him. He fucked me with hard, dry thrusts, and with each one I let out a muffled grunt against the sheets. He reached underneath me and began rubbing my clit while he kept fucking me from behind, and the worst—or the best—part was that I was about to come too. My head told me one thing and my body another. I stopped fighting. I came with his cock buried to the hilt in my ass and his fingers squeezing my pussy, and he felt it in the way everything tightened around him. Two more thrusts and he came inside me with a roar, emptying himself completely where I'd never let him before. I finished biting the sheets to keep from screaming, feeling the hot stream flood me inside.

He stayed like that for a moment, motionless, without pulling away, his weight on top of mine and his heavy breathing against the back of my neck, his cock still throbbing inside me.

—Happy birthday —he whispered in my ear.

I laughed weakly. It was true: my birthday was only a little way off, and he'd managed to turn his whim into a present. A cheater to the very end. When he finally pulled his cock out, I felt his semen trickling down the insides of my thighs.

***

He got up and went to the bathroom. I heard him turn on the shower; the night was hot, and he was sweating like a horse after the exertion. I stayed on my back, staring at the ceiling beams, going over what had just happened and what it could mean according to my damned calendar. I had to be okay. One day remained. Just one day.

When he came back, still wet and with a towel around his waist, I thought the night was over. I was wrong. He lay down beside me, brushed my hair away from my face, and his tongue began playing again, unhurried, slowly setting me alight once more, like someone blowing on an ember they thought had gone out. He sucked my nipples until they were hard, kissed his way down my stomach, and buried his face between my legs again, this time slowly, savoring me, while I dug my heels into his back.

—I can't take any more —I lied.

—One more —he said, and it wasn't a question.

He reclined and silently asked me to suck him. I thought it would be his last shot of the night, so I put all my effort into it. I settled between his legs and took him eagerly, determined to finish him that way, with my mouth, and bring the tally to a close once and for all. I licked his entire cock, from his balls to the tip, took him down my throat, and pulled him out covered in saliva, then sank down on him again, keeping a steady rhythm, sucking hard with hollow cheeks. I sucked his balls too, one at a time, while stroking his cock with my hand. He was close; I could feel him throbbing against my tongue, when once again he surprised me: he grabbed me forcefully, put me on my back, and thrust into me in one stroke, all the way to the back of my soaked pussy.

—You're impossible —I panted.

—You made me this way —he replied, thrusting.

He snorted like a bull, his hands sunk into my buttocks, holding me against him without giving me any room to move. He spread my legs until he had them pressed against my chest and drove into me with the full weight of his body, pounding the depths with every thrust and making the bed creak against the wall. He sucked my neck, bit my nipples, and gripped my throat without squeezing, marking me as his. And I, with my head in a whirl, was torn between how much I loved feeling him this out of control and my fear that the night would come at a price I didn't want to pay. But there was nothing left to do. In that position, with his weight on top of me, all I could do was surrender. I surrendered. I hooked my legs around his waist and squeezed him against me, feeling him tense, feeling his breathing grow choppy, until I felt the last spasms of his body and the hot stream spilling inside me for the second time that night. I stopped thinking.

***

By the time we finished, it was nearly five in the morning. We cleaned ourselves up in silence, our bodies still warm and semen running between my thighs no matter how much I wiped myself, and he drove me back. He dropped me off a block from Lucía's house, as the first light of dawn began to brighten the sky.

—When will I see you again? —he asked before I got out.

—When I'm sure you haven't been up to any mischief —I replied.

He didn't fully understand, or pretended not to. I gave him a quick kiss and got out. I went in through the alley, slipped back into Lucía's room, and dropped onto the bed just as she turned over in her sleep.

—Well? —she murmured without opening her eyes.

—I'll tell you later.

The days went by. Esteban sought me out, sent me messages, insisted as always, but I didn't want to see him until I was calm. I needed to know that his obsession hadn't gotten the better of us that night in the cabin. When I finally became certain that everything was still under control, I felt enormous relief, almost as intense as the pleasure of that early morning.

I sent him a single line: “You can be disappointed again whenever you like.”

It took him three seconds to reply that he'd come pick me up that very night. And I, who should have learned my lesson, laughed to myself in front of the phone and began thinking about where I'd leave my bag this time.