I Knew They Were Spying on Me from the Scaffolding Next Door

That summer in Querétaro had become unbearable. I worked from home, had been living alone since I broke up with my last boyfriend, and the routine was eating me alive. My aunt Carmen had been insisting for months over the phone that I come visit her in Tepatitlán, that the house was spacious, that the town was quiet, that I needed a change of air. One Wednesday afternoon, watching the thermometer climb past thirty-eight degrees, I decided to take her up on it.

Thursday night I packed my suitcase. Light clothes, the white Converse that went with everything, a pair of denim shorts that barely covered my ass, and two lingerie sets I had been saving for special occasions. At the bottom, beneath the toiletry bags, I packed the rest: my favorite vibrator, a smaller dildo for the trip, lube, and the bulb for anal douching. It wasn't that I had a specific plan. I simply never leave home without those things. Life is full of surprises, and I prefer to be ready.

I arrived Friday at noon. My aunt Carmen greeted me with a hug that smelled of cumin and bar soap, and my uncle Rogelio came out of the garage, wiping his hands on a rag. The house was exactly as I remembered it: cantera floors, a patio with a lemon tree and bougainvilleas, white walls with the sun beating down on them from early morning. We ate chilaquiles, they told me the town's latest news, and they settled me into the bedroom at the back.

—Honey, one thing —my uncle said as he carried my suitcase upstairs—. The neighbors behind us are putting up a second floor. There are three or four bricklayers working all day. They make a little noise, but they're good people. If they bother you, let me know.

I nodded with a smile. From the bedroom window I could see the scaffolding. And above the scaffolding, silhouetted against the sky, a shirtless man looking down with a trowel in his hand. I pulled back before our eyes could meet, but heat rose into my face. That night I slept badly. Not because of the heat. I spent hours with my hand between my legs, the small dildo sliding silently in and out of my wet pussy, thinking about that gleaming torso, about the way the muscles of his abdomen stood out. I came three times, biting the pillow, and still I was left hungry.

At eight on Saturday morning my aunt came into the room with coffee and news that they were going to the doctor in the municipal seat and from there to the wholesale market.

—Are you coming with us, sweetheart? We'll be gone about four hours.

I did the math in silence. Four hours. Empty house. Scaffolding.

—I think I'll stay, Auntie. I'll take the opportunity to wash my clothes and rest for a while.

She kissed my forehead, and at quarter to nine I heard them close the gate. I sat on the bed listening to the pickup's engine fade away, and when nothing could be heard but the hum of construction behind the house, I smiled to myself.

***

The first thing I did was get ready. I locked the main gate, put some low music on my phone, filled the small bathroom tub with warm water, and took my time douching. I inserted the bulb slowly, twice, until I was completely clean inside. When you plan things properly, they turn out properly. Then I took a shower, washed my hair, shaved my entire body with the cream I'd brought from Querétaro, and slowly rubbed almond moisturizer from my ankles to my neck, watching myself in the mirror, feeling my body begin to respond. I pinched my nipples until they were hard, ran two fingers over my already-shaved, smooth pussy, and felt how wet I was just from thinking about what I was going to do. I slipped my fingers in only slightly, just to test myself, then pulled them out glistening. I smiled. Not yet. I had to make myself wait.

I dressed in what I had already planned: the frayed denim shorts that left half my ass exposed, a white gauze blouse so short that it showed my navel, and beneath it a black lace set that was practically transparent in some places. I let my hair down, painted my lips a discreet red, and put on my Converse. I paused for a second in front of the hallway mirror.

That's it. Now I'm ready.

Before going out to the patio, I stopped in the kitchen. There was a half-finished bottle of reposado tequila on the counter. I poured myself four shots in a row, without salt or lime, and knocked them back one after another while looking out the window toward the scaffolding. The heat of the alcohol slid down my throat, settled in my stomach, and spread through my legs. I was ready.

I loaded the laundry basket with everything I could find: sheets, towels, my uncle's shirts, my own clothes that didn't need washing but would add bulk. I grabbed the detergent and fabric softener too, then opened the sliding door leading to the back patio.

The sun hit my face, and the sounds of the construction stopped being a distant hum and became something concrete: a hammer blow, a saw, two voices speaking in low tones through their teeth. I walked slowly to the cement washbasin set against the back wall, directly opposite the scaffolding. Without looking up.

But they were looking at me. I felt it from the very first step. The hammering grew more spaced out, the voices dropped, and suddenly the entire construction site seemed to be on pause. I loaded the washing machine with one hand while using the other to tuck my hair behind my ear. Then I took the sheets and bent over to scrub them in the basin. Slowly. Feeling the shorts ride up, the black thong peek an inch above the waistband, the blouse fall forward and reveal my bra.

Laughter. Murmurs. A short whistle that ended in a fake cough. One of them elbowed another, and they both laughed like teenagers. I kept scrubbing, pretending not to hear them.

I filled a bucket with water and, pretending I had splashed myself, pulled my blouse over my head. Slowly. I folded it over the edge of the basin. Then I lowered my shorts with the same slowness, letting them fall to my ankles, and stepped out of them, one leg and then the other. I remained in the black lingerie set, my back to the scaffolding, knowing that every inch of my body was beneath four pairs of eyes.

—Oh, holy Mother of God! —one of them blurted.

—Shut up, dude, she'll hear you.

—So let her hear, for fuck's sake! Look at that little ass, man.

I kept playing with the water. I soaked the lace of my bra until it turned transparent and my nipples showed through, small and hard as pebbles. I leaned over the basin to pretend I was scrubbing the shorts and left my buttocks exposed, clenched beneath the minimal thong that disappeared between my cheeks and revealed the entire cleft. I spread my legs slightly, just enough for the lace to cling to my pussy and show the bulge of my lips pressing against the fabric. When I couldn't stand the tension anymore, I reached behind my back, unclasped my bra, and dropped it onto the washbasin. Then, just as calmly, I slid the thong down my thighs until it lay on the floor.

Naked beneath the eleven-o'clock sun, I turned slightly, just enough to show my profile. My breasts, small but firm, my pink nipples standing erect. A light, shaved V-shaped patch pointing downward, and below it my shaved pussy, glistening, its lips parted from pure desire. It shone with water and sweat. And then I raised my eyes toward the scaffolding.

There were four of them. Four men frozen like statues, their tools hanging from their hands and their bulges showing through their pants. The tallest, broad-shouldered, shirtless, with a gleaming torso. Another shorter and stockier. A bearded man with a thick black beard. And the last one, with a large tattoo crossing his chest and an unlit cigarette between his lips.

I smiled. I covered my breasts with my forearms in a gesture meant to be shy but that had the opposite effect.

—What are you staring at? —I called, raising my voice just enough to be heard.

The bearded man was the one who dared to answer.

—Well… that you're very pretty, miss. Sorry.

—Do you like what you see? —I pressed, cocking my hip and lowering my arms so they could see my tits in full.

All four nodded at the same time, like dolls. The tattooed man was squeezing his cock through his pants without even trying to hide it.

—If you want to come over for a while… my aunt and uncle won't be back until this afternoon. Knock on the gate. I'll let you in. And come ready, because I want all four of you.

I didn't need to repeat myself. Before I had finished gathering the clothes to hang them on the line, they were already racing down the scaffolding stairs as if the construction site were on fire.

***

I walked naked down the cantera hallway. The metal gate burned my fingertips when I slid back the bolt. All four men stood on the other side, sweaty, dusty, with enormous hands and heavy eyes. They entered without saying a word, like animals entering a feeding trough.

The tall one, the broad-shouldered one, was the first to put his hands on me. He grabbed me around the waist from behind, lifted me a few inches off the floor, and carried me to the washbasin in the patio. He left me leaning against the edge, face down, my arms on the cold cement and my legs spread. The other three surrounded me. I felt four hands at once: one in my hair, another squeezing one breast and pinching my nipple between thumb and forefinger, another stroking my hip, and another sinking between my thighs, two fingers spreading my pussy wide open.

—Whoa, look at how wet this bitch is —the short one said, pulling out his fingers and putting them in the tall man's mouth—. Taste her, dude.

The tall man sucked the short one's fingers with his eyes closed, then crouched behind me. He spread my buttocks with both hands and ran his whole tongue from my pussy to my ass without stopping. I let out a hoarse scream that bounced off the wall. He did it again, this time slowly, stopping at my clitoris to suck it like a candy, pushing his tongue deep inside, pulling it out, then moving up to my asshole and sinking it in there too until I felt the cheeks of his face pressed against my ass.

—So, are you going to fuck me or just taste me? —I said, looking over my shoulder at the tall man, my voice trembling.

The sentence was all it took. He stood up, pulled down his pants without undoing his belt, and I saw his cock for the first time: thick, dark, veined, the tip glistening with precum. He gripped it in his right hand, rubbed it along the cleft of my ass, smearing me with spit, and drove it into my pussy in a single thrust, all the way to the hilt. The cement scraped my forearms, and I let out a howl I hadn't known I was keeping inside.

—Oh, you son of a bitch —I gasped—. All of it, give me all of it.

He began pounding me with a relentless rhythm, his fingers digging into my skin, his balls striking my clitoris with every thrust, his heavy breath hot against my neck. Every time he pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in, the washbasin shook and I spat out a moan. The bearded man moved beside me, pulled his cock from his pants—it was shorter than the tall man's but very thick, with a red tip—and placed it against my lips.

—Open your mouth, sweetheart. Open.

I opened it. He pushed it all the way in at once, reaching the back of my throat and making my eyes water. He pulled out, let me breathe, then pushed it back in, following the same rhythm with which the tall man fucked me from behind. The other two squeezed my breasts, tugged my nipples until they stretched, and pushed their fingers into my mouth whenever the bearded man pulled out so I could lick his cock. I was an open tube at both ends, pushed back and forth like a toy between two males.

—I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming —the tall man growled behind me, gripping my hips as he drove his cock in to the root. I felt hot jets bursting inside me, one, two, three, until they ran down my thighs. He withdrew slowly, with a wet sound, then slapped my left buttock hard enough to leave his handprint.

—Come on, bastards. Take advantage of the fact that I've left her ready.

He moved aside. The bearded man pulled his cock from my mouth, a strand of saliva hanging from it, and stepped back. The short one took the tall man's place between my legs.

The short one was more nervous, faster. His cock was less long but very hard, curving upward. He buried it in me with one jerk, using the other man's cum as lubricant, and grabbed my hair with one hand and my hip with the other. He fucked me as if he were in a hurry to finish, with short, furious thrusts that made my tits bang against the cement of the basin.

—Bitch, bitch, bitch —he repeated under his breath every time he pushed inside me—. What a delicious pussy, you bitch. So tight around this thing.

I managed to slip two fingers onto my clitoris and rub it quickly, feeling the day's first orgasm building in my belly. When the short one groaned his warning and pulled out, on the verge of exploding, I knelt on the mosaic floor and took what he had in my mouth. He filled my lips, palate, and tongue, and it dripped down my chin onto my chest. Warm, salty, urgent. I swallowed what I could and let the rest run down over my tits.

The bearded man lifted me from the floor by my elbows. He sat me on the edge of the washbasin, spread my legs with both hands, and stepped between them. He crouched first. He ran his tongue slowly over my pussy, licked away what was left of the tall man's cum still dripping from me, and lingered on my clitoris until I began to tremble. When I was about to come, he stood up, grasped his cock, and slowly drove it into me, savoring every inch. His thrusts were slower, deeper, almost theatrical. He bit my neck, shoulders, and nipples, whispering things in my ear that I neither understood nor needed to understand.

—Look at me —he ordered, gripping my face with one hand.

I looked at him. His eyes were black, and his eyelashes were as long as a child's. He kissed me on the mouth for the first time, with tongue, while he finished fucking me against the edge of the cement. That kiss made me come. I locked my legs behind his waist and shook all over on his cock, screaming into his mouth. I felt him empty himself inside me a few seconds later, with a long moan that escaped between his teeth.

The tattooed man was last in the first round. He put me on all fours over the washbasin again, but before penetrating me he crouched down to lick my ass slowly, soaking it with saliva, pushing his tongue into the tight ring until he made me loosen. Then he spread lubricant between my cheeks with two fingers, first one inside, then two, moving them in circles until I moaned.

—Here too? —he asked, pressing the tip of his cock against my asshole.

—Here too —I answered. And I turned my face so he could see that I meant it—. Put the whole thing in, asshole. Don't pussyfoot around.

He pushed in slowly at first, letting me open around him. I took a deep breath, pushed back to help him, and felt his entire cock sink into my ass until his pubic hair touched my buttocks. He filled me in a different way, deeper, more alien. He placed both hands on my waist and began to move. The bearded man, still hard, stood in front of me and put his cock in my mouth again. The other two, already out of ammunition, stayed at my sides, fondling my tits, playing with my nipples, and pushing their fingers into my pussy while the other man left my ass free.

—Your little ass is so tight, sweetheart, so tight —the tattooed man panted behind me—. I'm going to fill you all the way, hear me? All the way.

And that's what he did. When he came, he came inside my ass with a roar, holding me against him so not a drop could escape. He withdrew slowly, and I felt his semen begin to run from my anus down my thighs.

***

What came afterward blurs together in my memory. The four of them took turns front and back, in every combination they could think of. My body stopped being mine. It was an object passed from hand to hand, mouth to mouth, cock to cock, with no will of its own except to let itself be opened. And yet I had never felt so powerful. One look from me was enough to make them move. One roll of my hips was enough to make them adjust themselves. I was in control, even with my knees on the floor and my mouth full of cock.

The tall man, recovered by then, laid me on my back over the washbasin and slipped between my legs again. This time he drove into me slowly and pulled all the way out several times, showing it to me gleaming with my juices before sinking it back in. He sucked my tits, one after the other, biting hard at my nipple. The short one climbed onto the edge of the basin behind my head and put his now-hard cock over my face. I took it into my mouth without using my hands, pushing my head forward to swallow it whole, feeling the tip touch the back of my throat and open it.

The washbasin, old from years of washing, began to move during one of the thrusts. I felt the base tear loose from the wall and the basin tilt dangerously. I shoved him away with both arms before it came crashing down.

—Stop, stop! —I shouted at the tall man, who was buried to the hilt—. Everything's going to fall.

All five of us laughed. For the first time that whole morning, there were five human beings in a patio and not four predators with prey. We went out onto the garden grass beside the lemon tree, and continued there. I lay on my back in the grass, spread my legs, and the bearded man slipped between them again. Then I climbed on top of the tall man, cowgirl-style, letting his cock enter slowly while the tattooed man positioned himself behind me and penetrated my anus at the same time. I felt the two phalluses pressing inside me, separated only by a paper-thin wall of flesh, moving out of sync, each seeking its own rhythm. When one withdrew, the other entered. When one pushed, the other remained buried to the hilt. Both holes full at the same time, to the top, to the point of that good pain.

—Oh God, like that, like that, like that —I repeated in a broken voice, not knowing which of the two I was speaking to.

The other two knelt in front of me, one on either side, and I opened my mouth for them in turns. The short one pressed his cock to my lips and I sucked him deep; then I turned my face and did the same to the bearded man. All four hands were busy groping my breasts and neck, the two mouths were full in turns, and the two sexes remained full the entire time. It was ridiculous and it was exact. I felt like a goddess, a pig, a queen, a whore, all at once, unable to tell where one thing ended and the next began.

The tall man grabbed my hips and began bouncing me harder on top of him. The tattooed man dug his nails into my shoulders and sped up behind me. I clenched both sexes with every muscle I had left. Climax rose from my feet, gathered in my belly, and tightened around my clitoris until I couldn't hold back anymore.

When I came, I came like never before. A scream I didn't recognize as my own, a hot liquid running down my thighs and soaking the grass and the two cocks inside me. I shook uncontrollably on top of the tall man, squeezing and releasing, squeezing and releasing, until both men inside me joined in. The tattooed man emptied himself into my ass for the second time with a long groan. The tall man filled my pussy again, until it overflowed. The short one and the bearded man, coming beside me, finished on me: one shot his semen across my face and open lips, while the other emptied onto my tits, thick, hot spurts sliding down my neck to my nipples.

I let myself fall backward onto the grass, the tall man still inside me, the tattooed man slowly slipping out, my whole body sticky and trembling. I lay there in the grass with my eyes closed, feeling the sun on my eyelids, feeling semen running from my pussy and ass until it gathered in a warm puddle beneath my buttocks, hearing them pull up their pants one by one, laughing quietly as if they had just gotten away with something naughty.

***

—Hey —I said without opening my eyes, running my tongue over my stained lips—. The washbasin. It fell while… you know. My aunt will kill me if she sees it like that. Can you fix it for me? I don't have anything to pay you with.

The bearded man burst out laughing.

—Queen, after this, we'll leave it good as new. Whenever you want, too.

I showered twice. I scrubbed the grass from my body, washed the cement marks away, flushed the semen from inside my pussy and ass with the handheld shower, taking my time, feeling it come out in thick spurts, and brushed my teeth three times to get rid of the salty taste. When my aunt and uncle arrived at three in the afternoon with the bags from the wholesale market, the four men were in the patio mixing fresh cement and putting the basin back in place. I explained that it had collapsed while I was hanging laundry, that they had offered to help when they saw me struggling, and that they didn't want to charge me.

My aunt looked out into the patio, watched them fixing everything, and returned to the kitchen with a puzzled smile but no suspicion.

—It's nice that the neighbors are so kind —she said as she put the cilantro in the refrigerator.

After lunch, I volunteered to go to the pharmacy for my uncle's medicine and for an X-ray I had pending. On the way I also asked for the morning-after pill and requested two separate receipts, one for each thing. Not out of fear. Out of habit. People who take care of themselves don't leave traces.

I didn't go out to the patio on Sunday. The bricklayers didn't come to work either. Better that way. In the afternoon my aunt and uncle took me for a walk through the town center, where we ate carnitas, and nobody found out anything. On Monday at seven I took the pickup back home. In the passenger seat, beneath a folded sweatshirt, my vibrator was doing its thing, switched on against my still-sensitive pussy, reminding me of every thrust, every load, every cock. I didn't really need it. I had enough material in my head to make it all the way to Querétaro without stopping.