The Nights I Became Sabrina

In Maracaibo, the heat never let up, not even at night. Sebastián was nineteen, a skinny body with marked hips and barely five foot seven, and since he was sixteen he’d noticed something he didn’t dare tell anyone: his silhouette looked far too much like his mother’s. Patricia was thirty-six, worked long shifts at a private clinic, and after the divorce she’d started seeing Marcos, a tall physical therapist with broad shoulders who ended up moving into the apartment.

Sebastián listened to them at night. The bedroom wall was thin, and his mother’s moans slipped into his bed like a current he couldn’t ignore. He listened to the rhythmic thudding of the headboard against the plaster, Marcos’s deep panting as he ordered Patricia to get on all fours, open her legs wider, suck his cock all the way down. And he listened to his mother obeying, moaning filthy things he never would have imagined coming out of that mouth. He wasn’t spying out of voyeuristic excitement, at least not at first. He was spying because something in him recognized that desire and envied it.

Over time he understood that he didn’t want to witness it.

He wanted to be in her place.

***

The first time was almost an accident. Patricia had a double shift and Marcos had traveled to Valencia for a course. The whole house was his. Sebastián opened his mother’s closet and stared at the clothes Marcos bought her: fishnet stockings, a leather skirt, sheer blouses, lingerie that looked made to be torn off.

He put them on slowly, like someone committing a crime he enjoyed. The stockings slid up his legs and something changed in him. In front of the bathroom mirror he stopped recognizing himself, and that strangeness pleased him more than anything had in a long time.

Over the months he put his own things together. He saved up and bought a silicone insert, a black blouse that shaped his chest, high heels that pushed his ass up, and a deep red lipstick. He put on makeup patiently, studying his mother’s gestures. And when he was done, he was no longer Sebastián.

He was Sabrina.

This is the real me, he thought as he looked at himself. The other one is just the disguise I wear every day.

***

Sabrina walked through the apartment with the kitchen and bathroom lights on, the living room lights off so nobody could see in from the street. She liked the sound of her heels on the floor, the brush of the skirt against her thighs, the sensation of being watched even when no one was there.

For months she lived like that, alone, inventing scenes in her head. She imagined big hands on her waist, a mouth on her neck, a weight over her that held her down. But it always stayed there: in the imagination and in the mirror.

Sometimes she sat on the edge of her mother’s bed, with her skirt hiked up to her waist, and put two fingers in her mouth to suck them until they were soaked with saliva. Then she’d lower her hand and stroke her hard cock through her lace panties, squeezing herself slowly, biting her lip so she wouldn’t moan out loud. She thought about Marcos without meaning to. About his deep voice on the other side of the wall saying swallow it whole, bitch. About the way he made Patricia moan when he slammed into her. About what it would be like to be in that place, legs spread, the man’s cock splitting her in two. She came in her own hand, smothering her panting against the pillow, and afterward she felt ashamed, stripped everything off, and became Sebastián again, the quiet son nobody looked at twice.

But the shame never lasted. The next day she’d go looking for the lipstick, the stockings, her mother’s perfume. Sabrina always came back.

Until one night in March.

Patricia was on duty. Marcos, in theory, was too. Sabrina was strutting down the hallway, sure she had the house to herself, when the lock snapped open with a dry click. The door opened before she could react.

It was Marcos. He’d come back early, defeated by a fever that had sent him home ahead of schedule.

Sabrina froze in the middle of the living room, one leg forward and her heart racing. There was nowhere to run. There was no possible excuse. She was there, made up, in lingerie, trapped.

***

Marcos looked at her in silence for what felt like an eternity. Sabrina expected a shout, a scolding, a threat to tell her mother. She expected the worst.

What she didn’t expect was the slow smile that spread across his face.

—Well, damn —he said, closing the door behind him without taking his eyes off her—. Look what this house was hiding.

Sabrina opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Marcos approached slowly, unhurriedly, like someone studying something he’d just discovered and still hadn’t decided what to do with.

—You’ve got a better ass than your mother —he murmured, his voice deep and rough—. And that’s saying something.

He took her chin between two fingers and lifted her face into the light. With his other hand he cupped one ass cheek over the skirt and squeezed, testing her flesh like a man judging a ripe piece of fruit. Sabrina was trembling, but not from fear. Or not only from fear. She felt Marcos’s hard bulge brush her hip and a low moan slipped out of her.

—Don’t tell Mom —she whispered at last, and the voice that came out was higher than she meant, more Sabrina than Sebastián.

—Why would I tell her anything? —Marcos gave a crooked smile—. This is going to be our secret. And you’re going to pay me well for it, right, babe?

***

He kissed her before she could answer. It was a kiss that asked no permission, folding her against his body and leaving her breathless. He shoved his tongue deep into her mouth, searching for hers, biting her lower lip until he wrung a whimper out of her. Sabrina felt her legs go weak and grabbed his shirt so she wouldn’t fall. Marcos’s hand moved from her ass to her thigh, yanked her skirt up, and rubbed his hard cock over her lace.

—Just look at that —he murmured, not letting her go, pressing himself against her through the fabric—. The little slut’s hard as a rock.

—Marcos... —she panted.

—Walk for me —he ordered when they pulled apart—. I want to see you. Turn around. Shake that ass for me.

Sabrina obeyed. She moved through the living room with the sway she’d practiced alone so many times, and for the first time real eyes were following her. Her body burned with pure shame and something stronger than shame.

Marcos came up behind her. He moved her hair aside, kissed the nape of her neck, slid the straps of her blouse down. When he pulled out the silicone insert and let it fall onto the sofa, Sabrina felt naked for real, without a mask, exposed. He ran his hands over her flat chest, pinched her nipples until they stood hard, and she let her head fall against the man’s shoulder.

—Relax —he told her in her ear, sliding a hand over her stomach and downward, slipping it into her panties—. I’m not in a hurry.

Marcos’s fingers wrapped around her hard cock and began stroking her slowly, with his rough palm, while his other hand squeezed one ass cheek apart. Sabrina closed her eyes and moaned openly, unable to hold it in. A curious finger sought out her hole, brushed her tight opening, pressed without going in.

—That’s it —Marcos murmured—. Just like that. You’re shaking all over, dirty girl.

—Yes... —she panted—. Yes...

—How long have you been dreaming about this, huh? How many nights did you hear me fucking your mother and touch yourself thinking it was you?

—All of them —Sabrina confessed in a broken whisper—. Every single night.

Marcos growled with satisfaction and bit her neck.

***

He took off his shirt without taking his eyes off her, then his pants, then his boxer briefs. His chest was broad, his dark skin shining with sweat from the fever and the heat of the night. And between his legs, his cock was hard, thick, curving upward, the tip already glistening. Sabrina stared at it with her mouth slightly open. It was bigger than she’d imagined in so many nights of fantasy.

—On your knees —Marcos ordered, and he didn’t need to repeat himself.

Sabrina let herself fall onto the cold tiles, her heart pounding in her throat. She took his cock in both hands, feeling the weight, the heat, the thick vein running underneath. She stuck out her tongue and licked the tip slowly, tasting the salty drop beading at the slit. Then she opened her mouth and took him in all the way, as deep as she could, until the head hit the back of her throat and made her gag.

—Fuck... —Marcos groaned, grabbing her head with both hands—. Yeah, just like that, swallow my cock, little whore.

—Shy —he said amusedly when she pulled back for a second, saliva dangling from her chin—. I don’t believe it.

But Sabrina wasn’t that shy. She’d spent months imagining exactly this. She took him back into her mouth and started sucking with a hunger she hadn’t known she possessed, going up and down, her hand following what her mouth couldn’t cover, her tongue circling the tip every time she rose. She licked his balls, took them into her mouth one by one, then moved back up the shaft, licking it all over like melting ice cream.

Marcos was panting, holding her head, shoving her face against his groin until she choked.

—Slow down —he panted—. We have all night. You’re going to make me cum too soon, slut.

—I don’t want slow —she answered, her lips swollen and red, the sentence surprising even herself—. I want you to fuck me.

Marcos laughed, a low laugh that vibrated in his chest.

—You’re going to be trouble —he said—. Delicious trouble.

***

He lifted her from the floor and guided her to the bedroom —her mother’s bedroom, the bed where she’d imagined the scene so many nights. He laid her face down on the mattress, skirt still on, and yanked it up to her waist. He pulled her lace panties down slowly, leaving them hanging from one knee, and spread her ass cheeks with both hands.

—Look at what we’ve got here —he murmured—. A virgin little ass waiting for me.

He kissed her back centimeter by centimeter, moving lower and lower. He bit one ass cheek, then the other, and finally buried his face between them. Sabrina pressed her face into the pillow and let out a long moan when his tongue brushed her tight opening for the first time. Marcos devoured her with hunger, licking in circles, soaking her with saliva, pushing into her with the tip of his tongue, while with one hand he gripped his cock and stroked it from below.

—God —she murmured, clinging to the sheets, rocking her ass against the man’s face—. Don’t stop. Don’t stop, please.

He didn’t stop. He slid in a finger slick with saliva, then two, opening her up inside with patience, searching for the spot that made her scream into the pillow. He took his time, until Sabrina was trembling all over, until her opening was loose and throbbing, until her legs no longer responded and she was dripping onto the sheet. When he straightened up, she was ready, open, with no trace left of the fear she’d had at the start.

Marcos spat in his hand and coated his cock, bringing the thick tip to the open hole.

—This is going to hurt a little —he warned, settling in behind her—. Tell me and I’ll stop.

—Don’t stop —Sabrina repeated, her voice breaking—. Even if it hurts. Don’t stop. Put it all the way in.

***

He entered slowly, pushing with his hips, and she muffled a scream into the pillow. The pain was sharp, bright, a burn that shot up her spine, and for a second she thought she wouldn’t make it. She felt the muscle yield to the force, felt his cock open its way centimeter by centimeter until Marcos had all of it inside, his groin pressed against her ass. He stayed still, one firm hand on her hip, the other caressing her back, giving her time.

—Breathe —he told her—. Breathe and let go. All inside. It’s all the way in now, babe.

Sabrina breathed. Little by little the pain eased and something else took its place, a thick, dense heat, a tingling that started in her belly and filled her whole body. She began rocking her ass back without thinking, looking for more, and Marcos gave a low groan and started fucking her with short, firm thrusts.

—That’s how I like you —he growled, increasing the rhythm—. Look at yourself. Look at you swallowing cock, dirty girl. You’re mine tonight.

—Yes —she panted, rocking her ass against him—. Yours. All yours.

The rhythm grew slowly, wave over wave, until Sabrina lost track of time. Only the heat of the room existed, the slap of hips against her ass, the wet sound every time Marcos sank all the way in, her own voice saying things she’d never dared say aloud. Harder. Break me. Fuck me like you fuck her. Deeper.

Marcos grabbed her hair at the nape and yanked her head back, arching her.

—Say it —he demanded against her ear, not letting up, hammering her ass with every word—. Tell me who you are. Say it while I fill you up.

—Sabrina —she panted, and saying it out loud made something break and settle at the same time inside her chest—. I’m Sabrina. I’m your slut, Marcos, I’m Sabrina, I’m yours...

—That’s who you are —he growled, slapping her ass hard enough to echo through the room—. And you’re mine. My secret little bitch.

***

Marcos turned her over without pulling out all the way, laid her on her back, raised her legs to his shoulders, and drove into her again in one thrust that tore a howl from her. He wanted to see her, he said. He wanted to see the face she made while he split her open. Sabrina wasn’t hiding anymore. She looked back at him, eyes wet and mouth open, completely surrendered. Marcos grabbed her dripping cock with his hand and started stroking it in time with his thrusts, staring into her eyes.

—Cum for me —he ordered, plunging all the way in—. Cum with my cock inside you, Sabrina. Now.

—I’m going to... —she began, and didn’t finish the sentence.

The orgasm ripped through her like lightning, a shudder that surged up from her legs and left her voiceless. Her cum sprayed hot across her stomach and chest, and with every spasm her ass clenched around Marcos’s cock, milking him. He held out for two, three more thrusts, teeth clenched, and then suddenly drove in all the way with a muffled groan, cumming inside her in long spasms, holding her against him as if he never wanted to let go. Sabrina felt the hot spurts filling her inside and moaned again, small and satisfied.

Marcos collapsed over her, still not pulling out, and found her mouth. They kissed long and filthy, Sabrina’s semen sticking between their two bodies. Then they lay still, catching their breath in the dimness, fever and sweat mingling on their skin.

When he finally withdrew, a warm thread of cum ran down Sabrina’s thigh. She touched it with the tip of her fingers, brought them to her mouth, and sucked them slowly, never taking her eyes off him. Marcos laughed, hoarse.

—You’re going to kill me, babe.

***

—This didn’t happen —Sabrina said after a while, still trembling—. If Mom finds out...

—She won’t find out —Marcos brushed a lock of hair away from her face—. But this wasn’t the last time. I decide that.

Sabrina said nothing. Inside, she already knew the answer, and the answer frightened her less than it should have.

She got up, feeling Marcos’s cum running down the inside of her thigh, and went to the bathroom. She looked in the mirror. Makeup smeared, hair tousled, blouse half-fallen, a white trail drying on her flat chest. And for the first time, she didn’t feel like she was looking at a disguise.

—Your mother has another shift on Saturday —Marcos said from the bed, still naked, his half-soft cock glistening with moisture—. Put on something pretty. And bring the fishnets.

Sabrina smiled at her reflection. Sabrina, she thought. Just Sabrina.

And she knew the wait until Saturday was going to be long.