My friend came to visit me and loved me as the woman I am

I met Damián when we were still two kids sneaking out of class to smoke behind the school gym. He was my best friend throughout our teens, the first person to defend me when the others laughed at me, the only one who never asked why I walked differently or why my own body made me uncomfortable. Then life separated us: he went off to study in the capital and I stayed in my city, struggling with who I was and who I wanted to become.

Many years passed before we saw each other again. He showed up one morning at my work, by chance, to sort out some routine paperwork. I was no longer the person he remembered. I had transitioned, I was called Mariana, and the woman who rose from behind the desk to hug him had nothing to do with the shy boy of his youth. I told him everything that afternoon, at my place, my heart in my throat. And instead of rejecting me, he looked at me like no one ever had. That night we were lovers for the first time, and I discovered that the desire between us had been sleeping for far too long.

***

One Wednesday he wrote to me. He said he had a few days off and wanted to spend the weekend with me, that he had not stopped thinking about that afternoon. I read the message three times before I believed it. I replied yes, that I would be waiting with open arms, and as I hit send I felt a shiver run through me from head to toe and leave me wet between the legs just from imagining him.

He’s coming just to fuck me.

That thought stayed with me all week. He would come on Friday, around eight at night, driving from the capital. I organized everything with the precision of someone preparing something important: I cleaned the house, bought a bottle of red wine and two new glasses, changed the sheets for satin ones I had been saving unused. I wanted every detail to tell him what words sometimes can’t say.

By Friday morning I could barely contain my excitement in my chest. I went to a beauty salon someone had recommended, where Brisa worked, another trans girl with prodigious hands for makeup. We hit it off immediately, the kind of friendship that is born in an hour and lasts for years. While she did my hair and lined my eyes, I told her I was expecting someone special.

—Then let’s leave him breathless —she said, smiling at the mirror—. Let him get hard just from seeing you walk through the door.

And did she ever manage it. When she finished, the woman staring back at me from the glass was radiant. The makeup brought out my eyes without overdoing them, the lips in a wine shade that invited kisses, to be smeared by a hard cock. I left there feeling sure of myself, more beautiful than ever.

Back home, I took my time getting dressed. I chose a black lingerie set I had bought thinking of him: delicate lace, a thong that barely covered what it needed to, a garter belt hugging my thighs. Over that I put on a short dress of the same color, fitted at the hips, with a neckline that promised without showing too much. I perfumed my neck, my wrists, the base of my breasts, and also between my thighs, where I wanted his mouth to end up glued. I looked at myself one last time and knew I was ready for him to fuck me all night.

***

I waited for him in the living room, biting my lip every time a car passed on the street. When I finally heard the engine slow to a stop in front of my house, my heart lurched. I ran to open the electric gate and watched his headlights roll in slowly. He parked, turned off the engine, and when he got out of the car I stood frozen for a second, remembering why I had wanted him so badly.

I gave him no time for anything. I went up to him with all the femininity I carried inside, threw my arms around his neck, and found his mouth. I kissed him deeply, shamelessly, biting his lower lip, pushing my tongue all the way in, letting him feel how much I had missed him. I pressed my hip against his and there, through his pants, I felt he was already hard for me.

—I want you —I whispered against his lips—. I haven’t stopped thinking about your cock inside me.

He pulled back just enough to look me up and down, and there was something in his eyes that made me tremble and clamp my thighs together.

—Mariana, you’re gorgeous —he said, his voice rough—. More woman than ever. Forgive me for taking so long to come back, work has me traveling all the time. But now that you have vacation time, I’ll take you with me and not let you out of bed.

Hearing him, something inside me came undone and I felt my thong stick to me, soaked through. I kissed him again, now with a smile I couldn’t contain, and ran my hand over the bulge so he’d know I had understood the message.

—Of course —I told him—. Wherever you want. With this cock, you can take me wherever you want.

I helped him take his bag out of the car and we went into the house together, his fingers laced with mine. We went up to my bedroom so he could drop off his things. As soon as we closed the door we were kissing again, this time slower, getting reacquainted, and his hand went up under my dress to grab one of my ass cheeks over the garter belt.

—I’m going to take a quick shower —he told me, stroking my cheek—. I just got in from the road and I want to be clean for everything I’m going to do to you.

—Go, my love —I answered—. I’ll get something ready to toast and wait for you downstairs, nice and wet.

***

I went downstairs and poured the wine into the two new glasses. My hands trembled a little, not from nerves, but from pure anticipation. I could hear him moving upstairs, the water running, his footsteps. Every sound turned me on a little more, and without realizing it I was already squeezing my breasts over my dress, imagining what was coming.

When he came down, he was wearing only a white robe loosely tied at the waist, his hair still damp. He had nothing on underneath; you could tell by the way the fabric fell, by how the bulge showed every time he took a step. I got up from the sofa and walked toward him. I handed him a glass and we tapped the crystal together without saying a word, just looking at each other.

—To us —he said at last.

—To fucking all weekend —I added, and he let out a rough laugh.

We took a sip and I set my glass on the table. I slipped my arms behind his neck and pressed myself to him. We kissed for a long time, unhurried, tongues searching, his hands sliding down my back to settle on my hips, then slipping inside my dress to find the lace of the thong and the edge of the garter belt. I felt him pulling me against his body and how, beneath the robe, his cock was getting fully hard against my stomach.

I slid my fingers to the knot at his waist and pulled slowly. The robe parted and my breath caught. He was completely naked underneath, with his cock hard, thick, pointing straight at me, a shiny bead already appearing at the tip. Seeing him like that, ready for me, lit me up in a way I don’t remember ever feeling before. I kissed his neck, bit his shoulder, went down across his chest, sucked his nipples one by one, and left a trail of wet kisses over his abdomen as I knelt in front of him on the rug.

I took him in my hand, weighing him, feeling him pulse between my fingers, and started slowly. First with my tongue, running it over him from base to tip, licking his balls one by one, taking them into my mouth carefully. I flattened my tongue along his whole length, sucked the drop shining at his head, and without breaking eye contact from below I took him all the way into my mouth.

—Like that, Mariana —he muttered, burying his fingers in my hair—. Don’t stop, suck it like that.

I did as he said. I sucked him with hunger, with need, mouth open and saliva dripping down my chin. I set a rhythm, letting him in deep down my throat and out of my mouth while I looked up at him with watery eyes. He held my head with both hands, guiding me, pushing little by little, and I felt completely his, thirsty for him, my pussy tight with raw want. I ran my tongue up and down slowly, playing with the frenulum with the tip, then took him back into my mouth as far as I could, feeling him knock against my palate.

—Holy shit, you suck it so well —he groaned, throwing his head back.

I answered with a muffled moan, my mouth full of him, and slipped one hand under my dress to touch myself. I was soaked, throbbing, and every time I felt the tip against my throat a spasm escaped me between the thighs.

When we were both too aroused to hold back any longer, he leaned down, popped his cock out of my mouth with a wet smack, took me by the arms, and lifted me up. He kissed me with a new urgency, tasting himself on my tongue, hoisted me off the floor, and carried me to the bedroom.

***

He laid me on the satin sheets and climbed on top of me without stopping kissing me. He began undressing me slowly, sliding the dress off my shoulders, revealing the black lingerie I had chosen for him. When he saw the lace, the garter belt hugging my thighs, the thong showing through because I was so wet, he let out a sigh that made me smile.

—You dressed up this slutty for me —he said, more an affirmation than a question.

—Just for you —I answered—. Tear my clothes off if you want.

He lowered his mouth to my breasts and kissed them, caressed them with his lips, sucked my nipples until they were hard as stones, biting just enough to make me arch my back against the mattress. Every kiss of his was a current that went under my skin and straight to my crotch. I shivered all over, giving myself to him without reserve, wanting him with every inch of my body, and he kept lowering his mouth over my abdomen, leaving wet kisses on my hip bones, on the garter belt, on the inner side of my thighs.

He yanked my thong off with a sideways pull, no gentleness at all, and a moan slipped out of me when the lace gave way. He spread my legs, looked at me for a full second as if memorizing me, and buried his face between my thighs. His tongue licked me slowly, from bottom to top, tasting me, finding me, and all I could do was grab his hair with both hands.

—Oh, Damián, like that, keep going like that —I begged him, my voice shaking.

He ate me out hungrily, with his whole tongue, while he held my hips against his mouth so I couldn’t get away. He slid one finger in, then two, moving them slowly inside me while he sucked me, and I started to writhe on the bed, pulling his hair, pushing myself against his face. His tongue traveled over me completely and every so often stopped to suck, to kiss me there with his mouth open, shamelessly devouring me.

He stripped me completely, leaving me in the garter belt at the end because he said that was how he liked it, that it made me look like a fantasy. He carefully turned me over so I was face down and ran his tongue along my back, kissed my shoulders, my hips, spread my ass cheeks with both hands and buried his tongue between them, licking me slowly, tracing circles with the tip until he had me trembling. I writhed on the sheets, already impatient, my face buried in the pillow, biting the satin so I wouldn’t scream.

—Now —I asked him in a broken whisper—. Put it in already, please, I need you inside.

He arranged me on my knees, ass up, and gave me a gentle slap that made everything clench. He kissed my skin again, ran his tongue down my back. I couldn’t stand the waiting. I turned toward him again, took him with both hands, and sucked him for a moment more, looking up at him, just to make sure he was as crazy as I was, letting saliva drip over his balls. Then we held each other, rolled across the bed between kisses, biting each other’s lips, melting together in the same fire, until he positioned me on my back, legs apart, in the way he wanted to make me his.

He took the gel from the nightstand and prepared himself calmly, without rushing, coating his whole cock, looking into my eyes the entire time while his hand moved up and down. He put some on me too, with two fingers that slipped in without resistance because I was already so open. He lifted my legs and rested them on his shoulders, pulled me toward him. I felt the tip press against me, hot, slick, and I held my breath. When he entered, slowly, letting me feel every instant, every centimeter making its way in, immense pleasure swept from my feet to my head.

—Slowly —I asked, and he obeyed, staying still for a second with his cock buried to the hilt, letting me breathe.

—So tight, fuck —he panted—. You’re killing me.

He moved carefully at first, pulling almost all the way out and sliding back in slowly, giving me time to get used to it, reading my face for when he could go a little further. I clung to the sheets, to his arms, to whatever I could. Little by little the rhythm built, the thrusts deeper, the blows of his hips against mine drier and drier, and with them the pleasure, until it became something that wouldn’t let me think of anything else.

—Don’t stop —I begged him—. Don’t stop, please, fuck me harder.

He obeyed. He drove his hands into my hips and started fucking me hard, without restraint, the whole bed creaking beneath us. I dug my heels into his back, pushing him deeper into me, moaning every time his cock hit bottom inside me. We answered each other as if we’d been doing it all our lives. He thrust and I met him, both of us lost, both of us wanting the same thing. The room filled with our ragged breathing, with the wet, raw sound of our bodies meeting again and again, with the slap of his balls against my skin.

He lowered my legs from his shoulders, turned me over again and put me on all fours on the sheets. He went into me from behind in one stroke and tore a long moan from me. He grabbed my hair with one hand, my hip with the other, and started fucking me hard, pulling my neck so I would arch my back, watching himself going in and out of me, ramming me against his hips.

—Tell me it’s yours —I asked, clutching the sheets.

—Mine, all mine —he growled, giving my ass another slap—. This ass is mine.

I couldn’t control myself. Pleasure hit me like a wave, leaving me trembling, gripping the sheets with all my strength, repeating his name without even realizing it, coming all over in spasms that shook me from top to bottom. He sped up a little more when he felt me finish, held my hips tight, every thrust deeper, more animalistic, and a moment later I felt him swell inside me and come with a deep groan that made my skin prickle, emptying himself completely, every pulse of his cock filling me hot from within.

He stayed inside for a moment, breathing hard against my back, letting me feel him slowly soften. When he pulled out, I felt his semen slide down my thigh, and he bent to kiss my ass cheek before collapsing beside me. He let his body drop over mine, exhausted, and I held him against my chest. We stayed like that a long while, without talking, catching our breath, our legs still tangled and our hearts beating out of time. I kissed his damp forehead and he kissed my neck, and in that silence there was room for everything we had not said in years.

***

That weekend belonged to the two of us and no one else. We ordered food, watched movies sprawled on the sofa, laughed remembering old school pranks, and went back to bed as many times as our bodies allowed. He fucked me in the shower with the water falling over us, ate me out slowly on the sofa while a movie finished, woke me up Saturday at six in the morning eating me from behind until I came moaning his name into the pillow. Damián treated me like the woman I had always known I was, fucked me like he had years of pent-up hunger, and for the first time in a long while I felt complete, desired, at peace with myself.

On Sunday afternoon, when I was packing his bag to go back to the capital, he hugged me from behind, lifted my dress, and spoke in my ear while pressing my ass against the bulge in his pants.

—I was serious about the vacation thing —he said—. Next time you come with me, and you won’t be able to walk when you get back.

I turned in his arms and kissed him, knowing this time I wasn’t going to let so many years go by. Some reunions are no accident. They’re just life putting in place what was always meant to meet, to desire each other, to fuck each other until they’re left breathless.

***