My Uncle Caught Me Dressed Up in Front of the Mirror

The empty apartment was the only place where I could be who I truly was. My mother worked late on Thursdays, and those hours of silence had become my little secret ritual. As soon as the door closed behind her, my heart would start beating differently, faster, anticipating what was coming.

I went straight to her room. I opened the bottom drawer with fingers already trembling with desire and took out the boldest lingerie I kept: black lace that clung to every curve, an almost transparent bustier, sheer stockings held up with garters and squeezing my thighs. A short skirt that barely covered anything when I bent over. A white blouse left open halfway down.

I sat in front of the vanity mirror and transformed myself slowly, enjoying every step. Red lips, a line of eyeliner, lashes that changed my face completely. When I finished, the person looking back at me was no longer named as I was. It was Camila, and Camila was everything I didn’t dare to be for the rest of the week.

I moved around the room in high heels, my hips swaying, imagining hands that weren’t mine. I dreamed of someone grabbing my hair, whispering in my ear what they already knew about me and not letting me get away. That fantasy kept me company every Thursday, and every Thursday it grew more urgent.

One afternoon, while I was standing on tiptoe in front of the mirror, fixing my stocking, I saw a shadow cross the window. My heart stopped. I dropped to the floor at once, holding my breath, certain that someone had seen me. I waited forever, frozen with fear. When I looked out, there was no one. The outside hallway was empty.

I should have stopped there. I should have put everything away and forgotten about it. But fear, instead of putting me out, had turned me on even more. I kept standing there in front of the mirror, hotter than ever, my pulse pounding between my legs.

***

The following Thursday, the doorbell rang before I had even finished putting on my lipstick. I jumped. My mother never came back that early, and no one rang at that hour. I looked through the peephole and my throat closed up.

It was my uncle Andrés. My mother’s brother. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a few days’ worth of beard, that smell of tobacco and man that filled any room. He couldn’t see me like this. I couldn’t open up. But I couldn’t pretend no one was there either, because the light was on and he knew it.

I opened the door just a crack, hiding my body behind it.

—Uncle… it’s not a good time… —I stammered.

He pushed the door open effortlessly and came inside. He locked it behind him. He looked me up and down, slowly, without the slightest surprise on his face. And then I understood whose shadow it had been the week before.

—So it was true —he said, in that deep voice that seemed to come from his chest—. I saw you last Thursday through the window. I didn’t want to believe it.

Shame rushed to my face like a slap. I wanted to cover myself, disappear, tear the clothes off. But under the lace, my body was responding in another way, betraying me.

—Please… don’t tell my mom —I begged, my voice breaking.

He stepped closer. He took my chin between two fingers and lifted my face to look at me properly.

—I’m not telling anyone anything —he murmured—. But in exchange you’re going to let me see everything you hide. No shame. Sit down.

He pointed to my mother’s bed. I sat on the edge, knees together, not knowing where to put my hands. He sat beside me, so close I could feel the heat coming off him.

—How long have you been doing this, Camila? —he asked, using the name as if he had always known it.

—A long time… —I admitted in a whisper—. For years.

—And has anyone ever touched you dressed like this?

I shook my head, biting my lip.

—No one ever —I whispered.

His eyes flashed with something that made me press my thighs together without meaning to.

—Does it turn you on being her? —he insisted, lowering his voice—. Does this happen to you every time you dress up?

I nodded. There was no point lying. My body had already confessed for me.

***

—Then show me —he said, and reclined against the backrest, spreading his legs.

I knelt on the carpet in front of him, trembling. I unbuttoned his pants with clumsy fingers. When I freed what he had been hiding, my mouth went dry. It was thick, heavy, already hard, throbbing in my hands like something alive. I had never had a man that close.

—Wait for me —I asked suddenly—. I want to change. I want to be perfect for this.

I ran to the bathroom with my legs shaking. I put on the thinnest black thong, the matching bustier, new stockings with garters, and touched up my lips with a deeper red. I looked at myself in the mirror for a second: I was exactly the woman I had always wanted to be. The memory of what was waiting for me in the room made me drip.

When I came back, he let out a low approving grunt.

—Damn… look at you —he said slowly—. Come here. Sit on me.

I sat astride his legs. His huge hands grabbed my waist, slid down to squeeze me hard, his fingers digging into my flesh. He pulled me against his chest.

—Can I bite your neck? —he asked in my ear, and the question surprised me with how soft it was.

—Yes… —I panted—. Yes, please…

His hot mouth moved along my neck, sucking, biting lightly, leaving marks I would have to hide for days. Every kiss ripped a moan from me I couldn’t control. I dug my nails into his shoulders, lost.

—Take it out for me —he ordered in a rough voice—. It’s already hard for you.

I pulled his zipper all the way down. He was free between us, enormous, a drop shining at the tip, his scent hitting me straight on. My mouth watered with pure need.

—You like it? —he asked, watching how I stared at it.

—It’s huge… —I answered, almost breathless.

—Then use that mouth for something useful.

***

I slid back down to the floor, between his legs. I took him with both hands and kissed him all over, leaving a wet trail. I ran my tongue flat over the head and heard him hold his breath. Then I opened my mouth and took him in fully, as much as I could, until I felt him filling me.

—Just like that, slowly… you do it so well —he growled, sinking his fingers into my hair, setting the rhythm for me.

I went up and down, saliva running down my chin, my eyes watering from the effort. I moaned with my mouth full, and my own moans seemed to drive him wild. He grabbed my hair harder and pushed a little deeper.

—You’ve got a sweet mouth, uncle… —I stammered when I pulled away for a second, out of breath—. I don’t want to stop.

—Then don’t stop.

I sped up. The room filled with wet sounds, with his ragged breathing, with my muffled moans. I could feel him getting harder and harder between my lips, his whole body tensing.

—I’m going to finish —he warned suddenly, voice breaking—. Swallow it all.

He came with a spasm that ran through him entirely. Hot, thick, salty. It choked me a little; I swallowed what I could, the rest ran out from the corner of my mouth. And I, without anyone touching me, felt myself undo inside, trembling from head to toe.

I cleaned him slowly with my tongue until he was shiny. He looked down at me with a crooked smile.

—You’re incredible —he said—. But we’re not done yet.

***

He lifted me off the floor as if I weighed nothing and laid me on my side across the bed. He settled behind me, his whole body pressed to mine, his heat covering my back.

—I’ve never done it… there —I confessed in a whisper, suddenly scared—. I’m a virgin.

—I know —he replied, kissing my shoulder—. That’s why we’re going to go slowly. Trust me.

He lifted my skirt carefully and pulled the thong aside. I felt his hot saliva fall where no one had ever touched me, and then a finger, slow, patient, opening me little by little. I moaned into the pillow.

—Relax, Camila… let me in.

One finger became two. The burning mixed with something new, a pressure that made me want more. He kissed the nape of my neck, my throat, turned my face to search for my mouth with his tongue while he prepared me. I was no longer thinking about anything but him.

—Now —he murmured—. Tell me if it’s too much.

He positioned himself behind me. I felt the pressure at my entrance and held my breath. He pushed in just a little and the tip slid inside with a sting that made me cry out into the pillow.

—Easy —he said, staying still, giving me time—. Breathe.

—Keep going… —I begged through clenched teeth, surprised by my own words—. Don’t stop. I want all of it.

He advanced millimeter by millimeter, filling me slowly, stopping every time he heard me tense up. The pain gave way to a sensation that had no name, something rising from the base of my spine and clouding my head.

—Are you okay? —he asked, his voice strained.

—More… —was the only thing I knew how to answer.

***

He put me on all fours on the bed, my face against the mattress, my hips raised. He held me by the waist with both hands. He started to move, first gently, then with more purpose, each thrust deeper than the last.

—Tell me you like it —he asked, without stopping.

—I love it… —I moaned, clutching the sheets in my fists—. Don’t stop, please… like this…

The rhythm grew. The bed creaked, the room filled with the sound of our bodies colliding, with my increasingly unrestrained moans. I pushed back against him, searching for him, completely lost in the sensation.

—You’re mine from today on —he said, bending down to whisper in my ear without slowing—. Every Thursday you’re going to be waiting for me.

—Yes… I’m yours… —I answered without thinking, undone—. Come whenever you want.

I felt it hit me before he did, a wave that shook me entirely without anyone touching me, soaking the lace beneath me, trembling uncontrollably around him. The cry I let out was muffled against the mattress.

That was enough to send him over the edge. His fingers tightened on my waist, his rhythm turned erratic.

—Now me —he gasped—. All of it for you.

I felt him throbbing inside as he came, hot, filling me completely. I collapsed onto the bed, him on top of me, both of us gasping, pressed together by sweat. He bit my ear softly.

***

We stayed like that a long while, catching our breath. His weight on my back was strangely comforting. When he finally lifted himself up, he turned my face to look at him.

—From now on this is between the two of us —he said, serious but without a threat—. No one else needs to know. Understand?

—Yes —I answered, still dizzy—. I understand. And I want you to come back.

He dressed slowly while I watched him from the bed, unable to move. Before leaving, he leaned down and kissed my forehead, a gesture I hadn’t expected and that undid me more than everything before.

—Thursday —he said from the doorway.

—Thursday —I repeated.

When the door closed, I lay there in the tangled sheets, makeup smudged, my body still vibrating. For the first time I didn’t feel ashamed of being Camila. On the contrary. For the first time someone had seen her in full and desired her without conditions.

I got up, looked at myself in the vanity mirror, and smiled. Seven days remained until next Thursday, and I was already counting them one by one. This was only just beginning, and I didn’t want it to ever end.