I Lied to My Friends and My Cousin Agreed to Help Me

At twenty-two, Adrián was still a virgin, and most of the time it didn’t bother him too much. He told himself it was an opportunity: to wait for the right woman, someone like him, and lose his virginity lovingly and without shame. But that was the theory. The reality was that he didn’t stand out in any way, for better or worse. He was simply the most average guy you could ever run into on the street.

His height, his face, his body, his financial situation: everything was exactly average, which is sometimes worse than being ugly. But what really held him back was that unbearable shyness, that knot in his throat every time he had to talk to a woman. That nervousness was what had kept him a virgin for so long, and also what fed his friends’ constant teasing. They liked him, sure, but they had too much fun needling him about it.

That afternoon the four of them were killing time at Bruno’s place, with nothing better to do, until one of them remembered a story about his ex-girlfriend: the day they fucked in the back row of the cinema. From there each of them started sharing an anecdote, and of course Adrián had nothing to add. The attention suddenly fell on him when it was his turn and he didn’t even part his lips.

The laughter came quickly. Accusations of having a micropenis, of being a fag, of any excuse that could justify his virginity. Normally he would have swallowed it in silence; he was used to it by now. But that afternoon something inside him snapped and he decided he wasn’t going to take it anymore.

He stood up and, pretending to feel a confidence he didn’t have, said:

—Just because I don’t go around telling bullshit like you do doesn’t mean I’m a virgin. I have a girlfriend; it’s just that I’m not introducing her to assholes like you.

The reaction wasn’t what he expected. They laughed even harder, not taking him seriously, so he kept insisting, and within minutes there was already a wager on the table: if Adrián proved he wasn’t a virgin, they’d never make fun of him again; if it was all a lie, he’d have to give them his new console. He didn’t even know why he agreed. He was too angry to think. He said yes, even knowing that girlfriend didn’t exist and that it was impossible to invent one in a single day.

He left with the deal sealed. As soon as he stepped into the street, he felt like a complete idiot. He thought about going back in and saying it had been a joke, but it was too late, there was no turning back. He went home repeating to himself what he’d promised: “I just have to ask my girlfriend for permission and I’ll show you photos that’ll shut you up once and for all.”

When he got in, he sighed and dropped onto the living room sofa, staring at the floor, aware that the next day he wouldn’t just be a virgin, but a virgin without a console and, on top of that, a liar. Where was he supposed to get a girlfriend, or even a woman willing to take believable photos with him? An escort? No, he considered himself too “decent” for that. Go out partying and overcome his shyness overnight? Pure fantasy; he knew he wouldn’t manage it. And then, just when he already felt tears starting to rise, he looked up and saw her: his cousin, the loner, the one he’d mocked so many times by calling her “weirdo” or “witch.”

Some weekends she and her parents stayed the night at Adrián’s house, and Mariela shared a bed with him without anything ever being weird between them. For Adrián, incest was something disgusting, and besides, his cousin had never shown the slightest interest in anything sexual. Even so, sitting there, he looked at her with a thread of hope. He only needed to convince her to pose for a few photos: holding hands, sitting on his lap, maybe a fake kiss. But how was he supposed to ask after being so cruel to her?

***

There was Mariela, standing in the hallway, sweeping. It seemed like no one else was home, and she confirmed it herself:

—They’ve gone to the village to spend the afternoon there; they won’t be back until tonight. I’m heading out now.

Adrián couldn’t let her leave. He hurried over, gently took her hand, and nervously said:

—No, where are you going now? Stay with me, we can watch a movie or something.

They held each other’s gaze. Mariela was a plain, lonely woman, a little odd because of her very distinctive face. At twenty-one she still had almost childlike features, very pale skin, long straight red hair, almost always a little messy. She had large dark eyes and full lips of a deep red. You could say she was beautiful, but in a strange way: her eyebrows were barely visible and a sea of freckles covered her entire face, making her look more red than pale. Her body, however, was elegant, slender, with long legs, fine hands, a very narrow waist and wide hips in proportion, with small but firm breasts.

The bad thing was that almost nobody knew it, because she hid that figure under simple clothes that disguised it. That day, however, she was dressed with care, almost seductive if not for the huge coat that covered everything else: a tight black pencil skirt, sheer stockings, stiletto heels and a pink blouse buttoned all the way to the neck, with a matching bow. None of it could be guessed beneath that dark coat.

Hearing Adrián beg her to stay, Mariela knew instantly that something was going on. She let him hold her hand while she said:

—So now you want the little weirdo who’s always alone to stay with you. Why? Aren’t you afraid I’ll use you for a black magic ritual?

Adrián sighed. He knew he’d have to humble himself a little. Deep down she was sweet and always ready to forgive, but the last time they talked he had criticized her messy hair, her paleness, the fact that she barely had any friends.

—Okay, sorry, I’m an idiot. But please don’t go —he said, kissing her hand, dropping to one knee, and looking at her with the eyes of a slaughtered lamb.

—Well... —she replied, holding back a smile at seeing him like that—. But first you’re going to tell me what you’re up to. You’re acting really weird. Come on, spill it.

Adrián told her everything: the lie to stop the teasing, his virginity admitted in passing, the wager. She didn’t seem scandalized by any of it until he mentioned that she could save him with just a few photos.

—So you make fun of me, you lie to your friends, and on top of that you want me to take part. Sure, I’ll do it right now —she said, crossing her arms.

—Please, I’ll never say anything bad to you again, I’ll buy you whatever you want. I don’t want to be the group joke, I don’t want to lose the console. Please, please.

Adrián dropped fully to his knees, took both her hands, kissed them, and lowered his head until his lips brushed the tips of her shoes. He was desperate. Mariela was holding back laughter inside; really, she had already decided to help him, but she was enjoying seeing him like this. She stayed silent, offered him the other heel so he’d kiss that one too, then stepped away pretending indifference. She sat on the sofa, crossed her legs and, without looking at him, said:

—Convince me. I’m waiting.

Then she turned her head and looked at him with those big dark eyes, her freckled face almost glowing, her lips curved in a proud half-smile.

—A massage. Right now —she added, moving her feet to show him where she wanted it.

Adrián didn’t hesitate for a second. He knelt by her feet and began massaging them as best he could while she smiled and opened her coat to get comfortable. He kept his eyes fixed on those heels, trying hard to do it right.

***

The massage didn’t do much, but it was enough for Mariela. She stood up, took Adrián by the hair gently, and made him lift his face.

—Forgiven. But from now on, you treat me better.

He got up happily, wrapped his arms around her narrow waist, and lifted her into the air out of sheer joy, covering her cheek with kisses. Mariela ended up laughing, because despite everything, she liked Adrián.

—I owe you big time, Mariela. You’re saving me from the biggest humiliation of my life —he said, pressing her against him honestly.

Both of them blushed. They had always cared for each other in their own way, but that moment had something different, something warm, which broke when she said:

—Well, let’s take those photos and get you out of being the little virgin of the group.

They laughed together. Adrián started thinking about what kind of photo to stage and decided the best thing would be to show some possessiveness. He set the phone on a tall piece of furniture, grabbed Mariela by the hips, and pressed her hard against his body, his face very close to hers. But when he checked the image, it didn’t convince him: there was barely any complicity, and the coat covered so much that only her hair gave away that she was a woman.

It was she who suggested something else. She took off her coat and began looking around the living room, and that gesture left Adrián hypnotized. He had seen her hundreds of times, some of them in pajamas before sharing a bed, but never with clothes marking her shape like that: feminine, elegant, made to be looked at. He stood there dazed, losing track of time, until she took his hand.

—I don’t like this room. Come on, let’s go.

They went up to Adrián’s room, which had better light and a couple of mirrors perfect for taking photos. Mariela took charge of the scene immediately. She sat him on the edge of the bed and settled herself on one of his thighs, stretching out her long legs covered by the stockings, heels in the air, the skirt hiked up to mid-thigh and the blouse so tight it outlined her breasts. She slipped one arm around his neck and pointed with the other hand toward the mirror to frame the whole scene.

Adrián felt strange. He liked it, but at the same time he felt like he shouldn’t have let her sit like that. Those thoughts vanished the moment he heard her voice:

—Come on, I don’t have all day.

He looked at her face, pretending to be in love. That wasn’t what she wanted.

—If you think just looking at me is going to make them believe we’re a couple...

Adrián still stood frozen, not knowing what to do, so Mariela took his hands and placed them: one on her firm ass over the skirt, the other on her own neck. Then she brought her nose close to his and pressed her lips to his in a simple, sweet kiss, but intense, sensual, which drew a small moan from Adrián that she pretended not to hear. Inside, she was surprised by how much it was exciting her too.

—What do you think? —she said, showing him the result, blushing but smiling.

—I think it’ll do... —he answered, nervous—. Thank you so much, Mariela.

Adrián’s hand was still on his cousin’s ass, as if he couldn’t tear it away. Very slowly, she started to stand, and on pure instinct he held her back.

—One more photo. Just in case —he asked, shy but eager.

—No problem —she replied, delighted with that possessive gesture.

***

Now it was Adrián making the suggestions. Gently, he changed the pose: he laid Mariela on her back on the mattress and positioned himself on top, taking her wrists above her head and parting her legs just enough to settle between them. She looked at him, sighing, shy, with a half-smile that seemed to ask, “Is that really you?” He didn’t know it, but her nipples had hardened under the blouse. He propped the phone up, aiming it at one of the mirrors, set the timer, and used the five seconds to lean down and brush her neck with his lips, drawing a look of pleasure from her that was captured in the photo.

It took him a few seconds to come out of the spell. He looked at her with embarrassment, as if he had crossed a line by accident, and tried to pull away. But Mariela pressed her legs against his back, eyes half-closed.

—The photo is going to look good... but you licked my neck —she whispered.

—Sorry, I wanted it to come out well. I’m sorry.

To her, that shyness was much hotter than any cockiness. She held his face in her pale hands, pulled him toward her, and whispered before kissing him:

—I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I just wanted you to do it again.

She tilted her head, offering him her neck, and Adrián did the only thing he could do. He kissed and licked it slowly, while feeling himself harden against her within seconds. His cousin had a taste that trapped him, enhanced by the sweet perfume and the soft moan that accompanied the brush of his fingers against the nape of her neck.

—Are you going to be mean to me again? —she murmured.

—I’m never going to be mean to my cousin again. I promise —he answered against her ear, while the pressure of their bodies tightened the fabric of both their underwear and the moans mingled.

Mariela laughed softly between sighs, tugged at his hair, and caught his lips in a passionate kiss, slow at first, no tongue, until she let him in. The moans passed from one mouth to the other. Then she tore open her blouse, eager for attention, and he answered by removing her bra to kiss her hardened nipples, almost transparent against her pale skin.

Mariela was moaning twice as loud. She had never said it, but this was her first time too. Not for lack of beauty, but because she was afraid that with a stranger the experience would be bad. It wasn’t like that with her cousin. She squeezed him even tighter with her legs, digging her nails into his back.

—Adrián... I’m a virgin too —she confessed.

He stopped for a moment. He kissed her torso, covered her shoulders with kisses, and asked her in a low voice if she wanted him to stop. In response, she turned the situation around with a nimble movement: she laid him on his back and sat astride him.

—I can’t stop now —she whispered.

***

Mariela pulled up his T-shirt and covered him in kisses from his neck down to his abdomen, rubbing against him until Adrián had to hold her hips tightly so he wouldn’t finish too soon. She laughed, delighted, and kept sliding downward until she knelt between his legs. She looked at him, licking her lips, pulled down his pants, and stood staring at his erection with a mixture of hunger and curiosity, trying not to look intimidated in her first time.

She stroked him very slowly with both hands, never taking her eyes off his.

—Do you like it like this? —she whispered.

Adrián could barely answer, his eyes almost closed, his mouth half-open with pleasure. He stroked her freckled face and red hair before kissing her tenderly.

—I don’t know what I was thinking when I didn’t realize how beautiful you are —he murmured against her mouth.

And without another word, with Mariela almost as in love as he was, he gathered her hair into a makeshift ponytail and guided her. She opened her mouth immediately, licking softly, always maintaining eye contact, letting herself be led slowly.

—I feel like a shameless girl... but I like it —she said, her voice thick.

Adrián couldn’t stop moaning, his legs trembling. He interrupted to kiss her even though her lips were shining, whispering that he loved her, even if it sounded cheesy. She answered with another kiss and kept going, attentive to every reaction from him so she could learn what he liked.

—Mariela... fuck... —was all he could manage to say—. I’m taking you out to dinner tonight. I want to spoil you.

When he felt he was about to lose control, he stopped her again, trembling, and pulled her back up. He sat her on the bedside table, moved her underwear aside, and marveled at the sight of her wet sex, obviously untouched. He threw himself into kissing and licking it with the same gentleness she had shown him.

Mariela had her eyes rolled back, watching her cousin completely devoted between her legs. She had been touching herself without him noticing, and she was already on the edge. Adrián varied the rhythm, attentive to every shiver, enjoying that taste that kept flowing.

—Fuck... keep going like that, please —she begged, almost voiceless.

He redoubled his efforts and soon Mariela came, trembling, clutching his head, almost crying with pleasure. She had just enough strength left to ask him to stand up and kiss her. Adrián obeyed, proud of himself, unable to believe what he was living through.

—This can’t be real... it’s too good —he whispered between sighs.

Mariela had had her eyes closed for a while, and those words gave her the final push. She took his erection and guided it to her virgin entrance. He entered her with extreme care, and she opened her eyes to look at him fixedly, wordlessly telling him they would never forget that moment when the two of them, cousins and virgins, left their innocence behind.

The mirrors reflected the scene: the freckled redhead seated on the bedside table, her cousin leaning over her, their hands entwined, the slow thrusts, toes curling inside the heels. Adrián pushed a little deeper, feeling her accommodate to his size, both of them sweating. Mariela lowered one hand to touch herself while asking him to hold on a little longer, and he tightened every muscle in his body to last.

When he could take no more, she held his face desperately and kissed him like a madwoman, whispering a “thank you” that she barely managed to finish before she came again, trembling, closing her legs around him. Adrián collapsed over his cousin, almost losing his balance, emptying himself completely while that embrace milked him to the very last drop.

Sweat, saliva, exhaustion, pleasure, love: everything poured out of that scene. They held each other breathlessly, shared a long kiss, and fell onto the bed. Mariela rested her head on his shoulder and slipped her thin arm across his chest; he wrapped his around her waist and kissed her forehead while they both caught their breath.

Slowly, pleasure finished melting them. They looked into each other’s eyes, gave each other soft kisses, and whispered tenderness and thanks.

—Thank you, Mariela. You gave me the best day of my life —he said.

—I thought I’d never find someone I could trust enough for this —she replied.

After that they showered together, washing each other, covering one another in more kisses, promising to keep that affection forever, even if it was only the affection of a single afternoon.